


It's Too Late (though we really did try to make it)

by impravidus, StarryKitty013



Series: and they were roommates [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Case Fic, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Dead May Parker (Spider-Man), Denial of Feelings, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Frozen 2 (2019) Spoilers, Harley Keener Needs a Hug, Hurt Harley Keener, Hurt Peter Parker, M/M, Moving In Together, Mugging, Mutual Pining, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Spider-Man: Far From Home Compliant, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Pining, Recovery, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:42:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22322005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impravidus/pseuds/impravidus, https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryKitty013/pseuds/StarryKitty013
Summary: The universe really said "hey, you haven't been screwed over in a while." Things were going too well for it not to say "fuck you." Parker Luck would do that to him.~Third book of the "and they were roommates" series~
Relationships: Harley Keener & Harley Keener's Sister & Peter Parker, Harley Keener & Peter Parker, Harley Keener & Tony Stark, Harley Keener/Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: and they were roommates [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1414066
Comments: 230
Kudos: 572
Collections: The Best Harley Keener & (or /) Peter Parker Fics, The Best Peter Parker Whump Fics, The Best of the Best MCU Fics





	1. Waking Up To Ash And Dust

“Hey can you get me a water?”

Harley’s head snapped up. “You’re awake!”

“Yeah, and thirsty. Water please. Chop chop. Already getting dehydrated just laying here.”

“S-should I get the nurse in here or something? You’re, I…”

“Thirsty,” he said, in a sing-song voice.

“I’ll go get the nurse,” Harley said, mind still racing, “and get you water.”

He felt like the air was a thick Jello, each move constrained by the resistance of the thick goo holding him back. Each breath was taking in smog heaving through his lungs. Each blink was prolonged by the anvils of weight on his eyelids. Each thought he had were left blank. 

He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and stared at the machine. _ What was I doing? Why am I here? What was I doing? Why am I here? What…  _ Oh. That’s right. Water.

He held the cup under the machine but didn’t press the button. He just kept clinking the cup against the aluminum backing, listening to the “ding” as they collide. Ding. Ding. _Ding._ ** _Ding_** _._ **_CRACK._**

_ Oops.  _

There was a lot of blood.  _ Just like when Peter was bleeding.  _ Peter. Peter Peter Peter. Peter bleeding. Peter bleeding. Peter bleeding all over his hands and shirt and pants and hands and shirt and pants and hands and shirt and... 

And suddenly he’s back in their bedroom, desperately trying to hold the wound closed as he waited for Tony to come get them.

Hands and shirt and pants.

And now there’s blood on his hands and shirt and pants again. 

_ Oh right. I’m bleeding.  _

Bleeding on his hands and shirt and pants.

Hands and shirt and pants and hands and shirt and…

“Harley?” 

He looked up. Where did that voice come from? He couldn’t see anything past the blur of tears pooling in his eyes.

“Harley, what happened?”

_ What did happen?  _ Hands and shirt and pants and hands and shirt and… “Water. I was getting water.”

“Let’s get you cleaned up. Okay, sweetie?”

“But Peter is thirsty. He needs water.”

The voice was moving him to a chair. “Someone else can get him water, okay?”

“Okay.”

Harley floated with the voice. He felt the soft cushion underneath him as he relaxed into its fabric. 

“Harley. What are five things you can see?”

_ See?  _ “The blood on my hands. The blood on my shirt. The blood on my pants. The blood on this chair. The blood on the floor.”

The voice frowned. “Okay. What are four things you can touch.”

“My hands. My shirt. My Pants. The chair.”

“Good, good. What are three things you can hear?”

“You. The refrigerator humming. My heart.”

“What are two things things you can smell?”

“Old pizza. Blood.”

“And what’s one thing you can taste?”

“The remnants of my cinnamon gum.”

“How are you feeling now?” 

His world was clearing. He could see the voice now.  _ Pepper.  _ It was Pepper.

“I don’t… I don’t feel… I don’t feel okay.”

She squeezed his shoulder. “That’s alright. You don’t have to feel okay.”

“Oh God. I… he… he almost… he’s… and I… and he and I… oh my God.”

“Harley, hon. You have to breath with me. Okay? In,” 1 2 3 4, “hold,” 1 2 3 4 5 6 7, “and out,” 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8. “Keep breathing and listen to my voice, okay?” she began to clean out his hand lightly.

“You’re at the Stark Tower. Peter is doing fine. He’s actually completely healed since last night. No more blood, no more wound. He’s awake and he’s doing just fine. You don’t have to worry.”

“I don’t have to worry?”

“No, you don’t. Because he’s gonna be fine. He’s doing fine.”

“He’s Spider-Man,” he said hollowly.

“Yeah. He is.” Pepper rubbed circles in his back to keep him stimulated as he thought. “Do you want to go see him? Would that make you feel better?”

“I don’t know.” 

“That’s alright. How about we go see him? You’ll see he’s okay.”

“He’s thirsty. He needs water,” he said monotonously as if that was the most obvious fact.

“There’s water bottles in the drawer. How about we get him one of those?”

He nodded. “Okay.”

They shuffled their way back to his room where Peter was scrolling through his phone. “You’re back,” he said, not looking up from his phone. When he did, he dropped his sarcastic and spiteful demeanor and shifted to worry. “Hey, what happened?” he asked softly. He may be upset with him but he’s not a fucking monster.

“He’s in a little bit of shock, especially after you passed out and went into surgery,” Pepper explained.

“C’mere,” Peter directed Harley. He hesitantly walked to him. “Give me your hand.” When he didn’t, Peter grabbed it and placed it on his chest. “Feel that? That’s my heart. I’m alive and I’m fine and I’m right here with you. Isn’t that nice? Feeling the thing that’s keeping me alive?”

Harley nodded. “Yeah. It is.”

“Just keep feeling it. Count the beats.”

1… 2… 3… 4…

“You’re doing great, Harley. You’re doing great.”

“I’m sorry for being such a dick,” Harley said quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“I just gave you such a hard time and I had no idea you… and every night you… and I didn’t know that you…”

“You couldn’t have known. Don’t beat yourself over that.”  _ You have other things to beat yourself over.  _

“How do you do it? How are you okay? Are you okay?”

Peter shook his head. “No, I’m not. But there’s a city to protect and it’s my job to do that.” He looked at Harley whose face was riddled with curiosity. “Okay, shoot. Ask me whatever’s going on in your head.” He mostly just wanted to get him distracted so his panic would die down.

“How did you get your powers?” he blurted out.

“Radioactive spider bite.”

“And your powers. How do they work?”

“Not really sure,” Peter shrugged, “but I’ve got enhanced strength, hearing, eyesight, metabolism, and precognition.”

“Woah. That’s why you…”

“Eat so much and stay so fit? Yeah.”

“And Abby? When she got kidnapped…” Harley already cringing at the answer he knew was coming.

“Yeah, that was me. She already knows about my identity so…”

“Abby knows you’re Spider-Man?!” he interrupted.

“Yeah she does.”

“Who else knows?”

“The Avengers, Ned, and MJ. My Aunt May used to know but uh yeah.” He scratched the back of his neck.

“How are you sticky?” 

“Just happens. I think about sticking and I stick. Got really hard to control though.” Peter looks down and flexes his fingers a bit.

“So are you like part spider?”

“Yeah, kind of. It mutated my genes so I do have thermoregulation problems like a spider.” he shrugged.

“So does the web come from your…” Harley motioned with his hand.

“No, gross! It’s synthetic. Comes from my web shooters.”

“That adhesive that we used for our project...”

“That is in fact my web fluid.”

“Holy shit.” He gathered himself. “Okay, so when you said you were stopping a mugging you actually—”

“Yes.”

“And my self defense classes were—”

“Yes.”

“And your costume on Halloween was—”

“Yes.”

“Holy shit.” He sat on the bed. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything I said. That was unfair of me. You are the most amazing, strong, inspiring, selfless, intelligent, loving, and generous guy I’ve ever met. You have changed my life and you change lives every night. You save lives and you’ve saved mine.” Peter raised an eyebrow at his statement. “Really. You have. And if you don’t realize that then, that’s okay. I’ll make you see it.” He looked down bashfully. “Holy shit,” he said breathlessly. “Sorry, I just, this is a lot. It’s all kind of hitting me.”

“It’s the adrenaline leaving your system. You’ve had a lot since you got here. Your catching up to the last couple hours all at once.”

“It sucks,” he said with a dry laugh.

“Yeah, it does. I get it every night when I come home from patrol. It’s like you’re so focused on the moment that you forget to feel and then all of a sudden you’re feeling everything all at once.”

“Yeah. That’s what it is.” 

“How are you feeling right now?” Peter asked softly.

“Overwhelmed.”

“This can do that. I understand.”

“Are we okay, Peter?” he asked, not wanting to hear the answer.

“We can be, but for now? I’m not so sure.”

“Okay.” He nodded, almost frantically. “Okay.”

“What happened last night? I don’t really… I just was wondering…”

“Oh, well…”

THE NIGHT BEFORE

_ “Tony? I need your help.” _

_ “What’s wrong?” _

“Peter he’s been… he’s been, I don’t know, he said he was lightly stabbed but it doesn’t seem that light because he’s bleeding like everywhere and he just passed out and like I’m super worried because like oh fuck what if he’s dead? He can’t be dead. Please tell me he’s not dead.”

“Harley, I’m gonna need you to put his mask on for me.”

“What?” he asked, confused.

“His AI is gonna help you through this.”

Heart beating hard against his chest, he slipped on the red cloth, loose on his skin. 

_ “Hello, Harley.” _

“Uh what’s wrong with Peter?”

_ “He has been stabbed with a knife made of alien substance. It has made a wound impervious to his powers, causing his healing factor to be inhibited. His breathing is shallow and requires medical assistance.” _

“What’s she saying, Harley?”

“Uh, she said that he got stabbed by an alien knife and his powers aren’t working.”

“I’ll be there in five minutes. You’ve gotta keep pressure on the wound, alright? You think you can do that?”

He nodded. “Y-yeah, I can do that. I think.” He placed his palms firmly against his shoulder. “Everything is gonna be fine. Everything is gonna be fine. Everything is gonna…”

The whir of the repulsors and clank of metal on the fire escape broke him out of his daze. He heard as the suit knocked on the window. As fast as he could he ran to open the window and back to Peter to hold pressure on his wound.

“I can handle it now.” Tony wrapped something around Peter’s shoulder and picked him up. “Happy will come pick you up. I’ll see you in an hour.” And with that he was gone.

It was indeed an hour when Happy came to pick up Harley who had been pacing and hyperventilating almost to the point of syncope. It was another restless hour as they drove back to the tower. By the time he sat down, he conked out purely of exhaustion. 

He was abruptly awoken when Happy shook his shoulders, stating tiredly, “we’re here.”

He saw glimpses and pieces, Peter being wheeled past on a gurney, pale and weak, Doctors rushing past with hushed whispers, Tony telling him things he can’t hear. It wasn’t until an eternity of hours passed that he could sit with Peter.

He held his cold hand, trying to transfer his warmth somehow. He ran his fingers through his hair and made sure his head didn’t roll into an uncomfortable angle and cried when his machines went bezerk with beeps and he had to be pushed out of the room again. He didn’t fall back asleep.

NOW

“And then you woke up and now we’re here. I guess.”

“Are you okay?” Peter asked, softening.

“I should be asking you that,” Harley said with a humorless chuckle.

“I will be,” Peter said simply.

“We will be,” Harley repeated.

“You have school tomorrow. You should probably head home.”

Harley furrowed his eyebrows. “They said you’re healed. Aren’t you coming with me?”

Peter shook his head. “There were some chemicals in the knife that are still in my system. I have to be under close watch to make sure nothing happens.” ‘ _ Make sure I don’t lose my powers’ _ is what he meant, but didn’t say.

“Well I uh, I hope everything works out.” He began to walk out but turned back to look at him once more. “Bye. I’ll… uhm I’ll… I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah. See you later.”

When he closed the door behind him, he walked a few steps before pausing, staring at the white walls. “Holy shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! Yes, we are back with the third installment of the "and they were roommates" series. We apologize for the long wait, but we had to take a moment to step back from this story and get some fresh ideas. It was not only the end of the semester, but also college deadline time for us both, but hoorah! We both got into our top colleges! We've got some big plans for this fic and we are excited to get it out to you all. Updates every weekend.
> 
> If you want to chat, our Tumblrs are [official-impravidus](https://official-impravidus.tumblr.com/) and [StarryKitty013](https://starrykitty013.tumblr.com/) Also, I made a Spotify playlist of all the songs that we named chapters after. [Get that here!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5XBZZQWathootOGG6rzzWW?si=bqDNZAjaRvmhJognsxwLNw)


	2. It's Gonna Be Good (you'll see)

It had been only a day since Peter was released from the medbay, and acclimating to the new dynamics was definitely a shift. Both Harley and Peter were tip-toeing around each other, both in what they say and how they acted. Harley didn’t want to say the wrong thing and Peter was definitely avoiding him.

He had only been grabbing something from the fridge when he had overheard Harley on the phone with Abby.

“It’ll just bruise a bit, I’m fine.”

“It’s not fine if you’re hurt at all.”

Peter turned to face Harley, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Did she get attacked again? Was it the…”

“No. Bullies at school.”

“Seriously, no big deal. It was just the usual “you can’t choose your own gender, fag” kind of stuff. They threw me into the dumpster behind the school and got a few kicks in, but it’s nothing they haven’t done before.”

“That’s not okay. You, I, I thought you said things were okay,” Harley said worried with a hint of exasperation.

“They are okay. They haven’t dunked my head in a toilet in like weeks and they didn’t smash my head into my lunch since last month.”

Harley sighed, clenching his jaw to hold back what he really wanted to say. “We will talk about this later, okay? I know you have to get to the choir rehearsal. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Harley groaned as he put his phone in his pocket, burying his face in his hands. “What am I going to do?”

“It’s getting that bad, huh?” Peter asked.

“You heard? Of course you heard, you… yeah. I don’t know what to do. She’s… she just tries to act like everything is fine when nothing is fine, you know? She brushes off everything and I just worry that she’s… that she’s not as okay as she tells me she is.”

“Has she told you anything about what happened? What happened when we…”

“No, she hasn’t. Nothing in fact. She didn’t tell me about it until she was breaking down in tears about it and I just, I thought we had trust, but maybe we’ve been apart for too long. Maybe she doesn’t feel like she can talk to me anymore.”

Peter cringed. “I really hope she didn’t take what I told her too much to heart.”

“What do you mean?” Harley asked, looking up.

“I told her to keep my identity between us, but I think she thought I meant everything. She doesn’t know you know and a lot of the facts about the kidnapping have a lot to do with the fact that I’m Spider-Man. She probably doesn’t realize that she can talk to you about it,” Peter said.

“It’s not your fault. Kids take everything too seriously,” Harley said, trying to alleviate his guilt.

“I know but she…” He shook his head. “There’s a lot that happened and I think it’d help her a lot to talk about it. So, you should let her know that you know.”

“I’m just so scared for her. She keeps mentioning how she feels like she’s being watched. She thinks there’s a car that’s been following her and she’s been so on edge. I just… how do I make her feel safe again? How do I let her know that things will be okay?” he asked, defeated.

“Look, I know there’s been a bit of a bump in the road, but our meeting with my lawyer friend is still tomorrow. We filled out the forms and even though you… and we… and even though there’s been a lot that has happened, it’s still what Abby needs, and so I will still go through with the case with you.”

“You will?” Harley asked, slightly surprised.

“I will.”

“You don’t have to, Peter. This was… if you’re not ready…”

“It’s not about being ready. It’s about her and being there for her _._ _We_ will make her feel safe again. I promise.”

.-~*~-.

“So, this lawyer. Is he any good?”

“He does mostly pro bono cases…” Peter said casually.

“How does he make an income then?”

“He’s blind, he gets blind people support.”

“Wait, then how — “

“Don’t underestimate him. He’s ruthless. Took down Fisk in a court case 6 months back just to fuck with him.”

“Wow. Impressive.”

“He was actually the one who helped me get emancipated.”

“You’re emancipated?” Harley asked, shocked. “I didn’t know that.”

“You never asked.” he said pulling open the door and giving him a smile.

Harley surveyed the small room, looking up when he heard the approaching footsteps. “Hi, I’m Harley Keener.” He put out his hand to shake.

“Matt Murdock,” he responded, taking a moment before finding his hand to shake.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Harley said, his southern hospitality kicking in.

“Don't worry he has a Hell’s Kitchen hospitality so you’re good” Peter waved off.

Matt sighed.  “I’m going to be frank with you both, this isn’t my area of expertise.” 

“And here we go.” Peter said wryly.

Matt gave him a look before continuing.  “I’m a defense attorney, not a custody lawyer. However, I will help you with this out of the generosity of my heart.”

“And because I saved your ass with the Jester,” Peter added.

Matt looked between the two of them and sighed “You are terrible.”

“Shut up, okay at least my entire company didn’t find out.” Peter sniped with a blush.

“My entire company is literally three people and Betty doesn’t know.”

“You dumbass, Betty knows everything and you know it.” Peter scoffed.

Matt grumbled something indecipherable but spoke up. “Alright. Let’s just get down to the nitty gritty and get it over with. Custody cases of this nature are few and far between. They aren’t the usual sitch, and that could either work in your favor or end in trash fire. Hopefully, it won’t be the latter. First you have to file for guardianship. Do I need to do that for you or…”

“I’ve got the paperwork. Peter has already signed them,” Harley said.

“Perfect. Then, the next step is the trial. There are two trials. The first focuses on if you are suited for temporary guardianship and the second is the trickier one. They will most likely inquire for your thoughts concerning having a psychological evaluation. It’s the most obvious sign that the non-custodial parent is making a serious commitment to seeking guardianship. They are generally done by clinical psychologists, although they can be performed by any mental health care professional appointed by the court or agreed by the two parties, or in your case, you and Peter. The cost of the evaluation varies depending on the number of children, parents, spouses, and others in the parties’ households. But, it should be around $2,000 to $4,000.” 

Harley’s mouth parted slightly in shock, but he closed it quickly. “Okay. I’ll… I’ll figure something out.”

“Because this isn’t a custody dispute between two parties, the main assessment in court will be based on your eligibility to be a fit guardian. You have to prove to the court that guardianship of your sibling is necessary and in your sibling’s best interest. That will be another common theme. Because she is 12, she will have a say in the matter, but her opinion and preference will not substitute court order. You’ll also have to pass the Child’s Best Interest Standard, some way to prove that you are capable of providing for the child, including food, clothing, housing, education, medical care, and a stable home life. This also includes environmental factors like the quality of education in the district, safety of the neighborhood, proximity to other extracurricular activities, and stability of you lifestyle and background. I’m guessing that is a factor of this postponing?”

“Because of the CPS experiment, the rules don’t apply the same way they would if I weren’t under the jurisdiction of foster care. Even though I’m a legal adult, I began participating in the experiment as a minor and by the time I was of age, she was already put into a foster family. And, since Peter is my roommate, he has to be included in the whole process.”

“And your eligibility? Has that wavered?”

He hesitated. “I wasn’t a fit parent for a while. I was overcome with grief and I probably wouldn’t have passed the necessary sobriety tests.”

“Ah yes. Sobriety. I am certain that they will not give you guardianship if you even have a hint of underage drinking, let alone underage alcoholism.”

“I’m quitting.” Matt looked at him in deadpan. “I’m getting there… Peter helps me.”

“That’s not very reassuring.”

“Hey!” Peter interjected. “That should be very reassuring.”

“Not the way you were with those dealers last week.” Matt muttered making Peter give him a murderous look that shut the other man up. “The court may order an investigator to interview you and your sibling, as well as visit the home where the child will be living, so that means best behavior from not only you but also your supersecret roommate.” He looked to Peter.

“Noted,” Peter responded.

“If you can prove that financially, emotionally, and mentally, you are capable of caring for the child, and that being in your care would be in the child’s best interest, you may be awarded guardianship.”

“May? Not even all of that guarantees it?”

“I’m sorry, but we can never guarantee anything to our clients. We don’t want to give false hope.” Matt looked at Peter pointedly.

“Really?” Peter rolled his eyes “Right now, in civvies?” Was 

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You never do.” 

“Now who’s being convoluted?”

Harley sucked in a breath, feeling like he shouldn’t hear this conversation. It was just a reminder of how much he really didn’t know about Peter. Of how much they’d have to keep from Abby, because Peter didn’t - couldn’t - share these things with even Harley. Even after all their progress.

“Do you have a restroom I may use?” Harley asked quietly.

“Down the hall, to the left,” Matt responded.

“Thanks.”

Matt leaned over the table, whispering so quiet that it would barely be audible to a normal human. “Are you sure this is a good idea? Are you sure you want a kid?”

Peter nodded, but realized he couldn’t see the action. “I do. It’s the best for her.”

“But what about the best for you?”

“She’s in danger because of me, Matt. She got kidnapped because of me, she’s potentially being followed because of me, and she has PTSD because of me. The least I can do is give her a safe place to live with her big brother.” He wasn’t looking at Matt though, but he could feel the unseeing stare of daredevil burning into him. Analyzing him. 

“Kids are an investment.” the older man finally said.

“I’ve got a job, and so does Harley. We will make time for her.” Peter said almost dismissively.

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“...I know.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “We… I want this to work. I can’t sleep at night knowing that I’m the reason she doesn’t.” 

“You can’t sleep at night without punching someone either.” Matt muttered and Peter glared at the ground “Things are rarely ever in your control. You know that,” Matt said in a lower tone. Peter didn’t answer and Matt knew he couldn’t sway him. The older man sighed.“You are still gonna put your all into this.”

“Yes.” he answered automatically. 

“You’ll have to be more sure than that for the court to believe you.” 

“Wade took in a kid.” Peter gritted out.

“And got him arrested into a high security prison before he almost became a super villain and killed by a cyborg from the future before he’d presumably commit murder at the age of 13.”

“I have more brain cells than he has.” 

“Barley.” Matt muttered. “And Wade doesn’t nearly die every other week.”

“Wade  _ let’s  _ himself get shot… in the  _ head…  _ daily _. _ ”

“Yet you’re the one that can pass out from blood loss.”

“Don’t act so high and mighty at least I don’t get shot every other  _ day _ .” 

“I’m not filing for guardianship of a kid at seventeen with a high demanding, _ lethal, _ and not to mention,  _ illegal _ job.” 

“You’re just jealous because I found a different brand of batshit crazy that you can’t indulge in.”

“Yeah, right.” Just then Harley walked in.

.-~*~-.

“So… was he like…” Harley asked as they walked home, looking around to see if anyone could overhear, “a vigilante friend?”

“He’s a pain in the ass is what he is.” Peter grumbled. “But at least he didn’t bash in your head.”

“What?”

“Congrats.” Peter smiled broadly at Harley. “You met the devil himself and lived.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna be completely honest here, Starry does all of the Matt Murdock stuff. I just do the legal research (which is most likely very incorrect so please excuse my legal bullshit) while she handles all of the characterization of the Team Red stuff. We do love exposition.
> 
> If you want to chat, our Tumblrs are [official-impravidus](https://official-impravidus.tumblr.com/) and [StarryKitty013](https://starrykitty013.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ~impravidus


	3. Sweater Weather

Peter leaned against the island, quickly shoveling mashed potatoes in his mouth, making sure not to spill on his Spider-Man suit. Harley entered the kitchen and looked to him perplexed. 

“What are you doing?”

“Just getting something in my stomach before I go on patrol.”

“Patrol?” he asked, confused.

“That thing Spider-Man does where he goes around the city and stops crime?” he said, insinuating his annoyance and impatience through his tone.

“Oh you’re uh you’re starting that already?” he asked wearily.

“What do you mean already?” Peter responded, a little accusatory.

“It’s just, you were just hurt—”

“And now I’m healed—”

“So I just thought you were going to take it easy—”

“And I did and now I’m done—”

“But I-I mean it’s just crime must be really bad right now if you were getting so hurt before—”

“What are you trying to say—”

“Because every night you were coming home really hurt and I mean if you’re not careful—”

“Oh, you think I’m not careful—”

“No! No I’m just saying I’m worried that you’re gonna get hurt—”

“Spider-Man get’s hurt! That’s part of the job description—”

“I just don’t want you to get _that_ hurt. Okay? I’m scared that you’re going to leave that window and never come back in.”

Peter froze. “I’m gonna come back.”

“But what if you don’t?”

“I’m gonna come back,” he repeated. “I always do.”

“But what if you don’t?” Harley asked.

Only now did Peter hear the quiver of fear in Harley’s voice. He had been so blinded by his annoyance that he hadn’t considered that Harley may actually be affected by his nightly routine.

“I will. Now, I have to go. I can hear a mugging down the street.” He pulled on his mask and went to their bedroom. He looked back to the worried Harley before climbing out of the window and swinging away.

.-~*~-.

Abby smiled brightly at the two teens exited the black Uber, the frozen dew crunching under their shoes as they rushed to see her.

“Harley!” she exclaimed happily, running to hug him.

“I just saw you a couple weeks ago, squirt,” he said with a laugh.

“Well it feels like forever.” She smiled wide. “Notice anything different?”

Harley pretended to think. “Looks like they’ve turned blue. Is that what you mean?”

She giggled. “No! Look!” She pointed at her tooth, or lack thereof. “I lost my last baby tooth! I’m officially a grown up with grown up teeth.”

He shook his head. “Uh-uh. It hasn’t grown in, so technically you don’t have all you grown up teeth yet. Besides, you can’t grow up, because if you grow up, then that means that I’m old.”

“You’re ancient,” she teased.

He grasped at his heart. “Oh, I’m having a heart attack. Because I’m an old man.” He dramatically threw himself onto the grass. “I’ve fallen and can’t get up. Someone call the old people doctor.”

“Come on, stupid-head! Lunch is on the table. We’re having tacos!” Abby pulled Harley by the hand, and Peter followed casually behind.

“And so Mr. Blue was like “Abby you _have_ to join the winter showcase” and I was like “really” and he was like “yeah totally!” So, long story short, I have a solo in the winter showcase.”

Harley beamed with pride at his little sister. “That’s amazing, Abs. What are you going to do?”

“I was gonna do “Popular” from Wicked but like _everyone_ does “Popular” from Wicked so then I was like maybe I should do “Tomorrow” from Annie but like _everyone_ does “Tomorrow” from Annie. But then Mr. Blue was like “you’re going to be doing it with Evan” so me and Evan were like huh. A duet. But then Mr. Blue said that since it’s the winter showcase, we should do something from A Christmas Carol so we’re gonna do this song called “A Place Called Home” and like ugh it’s a love song so everyone is gonna be like “oooo Abby’s singing a love song with Evan” but it’s _not like that_.”

“Well I’m sure it’s gonna sound great. I know it will,” Harley said.

“Sharon, these tacos are amazing. Thank you so much for lunch,” Peter complimented.

“It was no problem at all, dear. I’m glad you enjoyed,” she responded, taking a sip from her sparkling water. 

“Here, I’ll help you clear the table,” Peter said, giving a look to Harley indicating that he tell Abby the news.

Peter and Sharon exited, plates in hand, leaving Harley and Abby alone.

“So, Abby, I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

She looked up. “Yeah?”

“Remember how I said that I was trying to figure out a way to get you to come live with me up in New York?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I started the process for it. We talked to a lawyer who’s gonna help us, and he said you’re gonna have some say in it too, so that means you’re gonna come up to New York and speak during the trial. We’ll coach you and help you through the whole thing, but, Abby, if this all goes through, you can… you’re gonna live with me. And Peter.”

Her eyes widened. “So that wasn’t just… you really mean it? I might… I’m gonna live with you again?”

He nodded. “If it all works out, yeah. If you want to.”

“Of course I do, dum-dum.” She laughed to hide her watery eyes. “I’d really like that.”

He pulled her into a hug and kissed her hair. “I love you, Abby.”

“I love you too, Harley.” She pulled away, a spark in her eyes as she remembered something. “I’ll be right back. I have something for you.” She ran up the stairs leaving him alone.

Peter entered the kitchen. “That went well.”

“How did you…” he stopped. “Right. Your hearing. So you heard…”

“Yeah, I did. And I think she took it really well.”

“I just don’t want her to get her hopes up too much in case something goes haywire, you know? I love her so much, and the last thing I want to do is let her down.”

“You’re not gonna let her down.” _Even though you let me down._

“This is just a lot for her, you know? And a lot for me. Until now, it’s been planning and hypotheticals but telling her almost makes it real, you know?”

“It _is_ real.”

“Yeah. It is. And that’s what makes it even scarier.”

Abby came running down, almost falling as she slid in her socks. “I have something for you two.” She handed them two pieces of yarn adorned with bits and bobbles. Peter’s was a black piece of yarn with pasta painted red and blue, silver metal nuts, and white cube bead letters reading “PETER.” Harley’s was of the same style but with purple and pink pasta. 

“I made yours blue and red because well you know why and I made yours purple and pink because I know those are your favorite colors.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Your favorite colors are purple and pink?”

“Don’t judge. Gendering colors is so last decade.”

.-~*~-.

Ned rushed over to Peter, eyes wide. “Dude, why are you wearing your glasses? Did your powers…”

Peter shook his head. “No. They didn’t. Harley made them. They are adjustable light sensory glasses that don’t change hue on the outside but do for me. Said he spent his last lab day with _Tony_ manufacturing them for me, and now Mr. Stark is in on it and is requiring me to wear them. They have vital trackers and everything that make sure they are on my face.”

“That’s so cool! How do they block out the excess light from around them? I mean sure you can just push them up closer to your eyes, but light still pokes out from the outside.”

“You know barrier blocks in Minecraft?” 

Ned’s eyes went even wider. “They’re invisible to the human eye?!” 

“You don’t have to announce it to the school, Ned.”

“I’m sorry but this is so cool. I mean, you have Spider-Man tech on you all the time.”

“This isn’t Spider-Man tech.”

“But it kind of is? You wouldn’t need it if it hadn’t been for the spider bite. And now you can finally have something for your sensory overload. I mean you almost failed midterms last year.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Why aren’t you more excited about this? You’ve been struggling with this for months. I know for a fact that your “migraines” have become a scapegoat way too much.”

“Because Harley is going overboard with everything. He’s been like a helicopter parent ever since he found out about our super friend and now he’s overcompensating for my hypermetabolism by giving me ridiculous amounts of food which he is acquiring from what Mr. Stark calls the “Hungry Baby Budget,” checking on my wounds constantly, and making me wear warmer clothes so that I don’t freeze.”

“Honestly? That sounds like the opposite of a problem. It actually sounds really nice. Having someone care that much for you.”

“Well I’d like it better if it wasn’t _him_ caring for me.”

Ned frowned. “You still haven’t told me what happened.”

“‘Cause I don’t want to talk about it,” Peter grumbled.

“This isn’t like you, dude. I hate seeing you like this.”

He sighed. “I know. And I’m sorry for getting so angsty teen on you, I just… I don’t want to talk about it or think about it so yeah.”

“I hear you, man. Don’t sweat it. Seriously.” He wracked his brain to think of a different conversation topic. “So did you see the new trailer for Rise of Skywalker?”

.-~*~-.

Harley’s teeth gripped at his thumb as he stared at his book with a furrowed brow. His glasses were almost falling off of his nose and his mug of hot chocolate was now lukewarm chocolate, but he kept sipping at it. Peter couldn’t help but stare. Yup. Harley was still undeniably attractive.

“What are you reading?” he asked.

Harley, surprised Peter was starting conversation with him, put down his book. “Parenting books. I got a bunch of them to maybe, I don’t know, prepare?”

“You’ve been Abby’s brother her whole life. You know her better than anyone else.”

“But I don’t know how to parent her. Being the cool big brother who babysat her isn’t the same as being her guardian and I… I don’t want to screw this up.”

Peter softened. “You’re not gonna screw it up. You aren’t going to screw her up either. She’s a great kid and whatever you’ve done so far has really worked. She loves you and you love her.”

He nodded, nibbling at his nail. “I just… I don’t know. I’m just worried.”

“Which means you’re gonna do everything you can do to be the best for her. Those parenting books are just words, you know. The only way you’re going to learn is by doing, and you’ve done a lot of doing. Ugh. You know what I mean. That ‘babysitting’ was damn good practice, and you’ve been the only male figure in her life and haven’t screwed up yet.”

“Yeah I just…”

“Stop freaking out and just take a breather. Staring at those pages isn’t gonna do you or her any good.”

He set the book down. “You’re right. And most of these books don’t really specialize in “How To Parent Your Orphaned Nine Year Old Sister,” you know?”

Peter shook his head. “I don’t, but I’ll take your word for it.” The microwave beeped indicating that his soup was warmed up. “I’ve gotta go finish my calc homework so I uh, I’ll see ya.” 

Harley sighed and closed his eyes. _Why won’t he talk to me?_

.-~*~-.

“I’m testing out some new colors for my titanium alloy. More diversity and all that. What do you think of these?”

Harley looked over to Tony’s workbench. Scraps of metal littered the tabletop, ranging from all hues of the color wheel. “What’s it for?” he asked.

“Just trying out some new colors,” he responded vaguely.

He scanned over them. “Well I may have a bit of a bias. This purple and magenta are pretty badass.”

“Multichrome,” Tony explained. “It shifts between the two. You like that one?”

He shrugged. “I mean that’s just what I would pick. Why?”

“No reason.”

.-~*~-.

“Harley?”

“Huh?”

“Your spinach is burning.”

He looked down at the charred, steaming mess. “Oh! I didn’t even realize.”

“You aight? Your head might combust if you stare at the wall any harder.”

Harley sighed. “I’ve just been thinkin’ a lot.”

“About…?”

“Abby. And the case. And what I’m gonna be like as her…” he trailed off.

“Honestly? It’s not going to be easy. It’s going to be a lot of adjusting and learning through your mistakes. It’s gonna be her growing up and getting rebellious and not taking any of your shit and you still loving her and wanting to give her the world, but also finding the balance of stepping back and giving her space even though all you want to do is to walk her through every step of her life. It’s gonna be disagreements and bickering and maybe some fighting, but at the end of the day, you’re what she’s got, and she loves you, and you love her, and that’s all that matters.”

“That’s what makes you so great. You don’t just focus on the happy endings and the ‘it always gets better’ stuff. You know that there’s always going to be an uphill climb. It’s been really hard for me to remember that this is a process and progress is a process, but you’ve kept me in check.”

“Well I uh, that’s what I do,” Peter said in an awkward sing-song voice. “You better clean up that mess while it’s still hot or it’ll stick to the pan.”

.-~*~-.

“I bet you know a lot about gravitation.” 

Peter looked up from his practice problem packet. “What do you mean?”

“I mean like, I already know you know everything about projectile motions, but like gravitation? That’s like your nightly life. Just like physics of letting gravity take its toll as you swing?” he whispered back.

“I mean, I guess. I’ve also had the bad side of gravity. I’ve fallen from a lot of high places.”

“Well you’ve obviously made it out alive. Or are you a ghost? That’s spooky. I’m talking to the ghost of Peter Parker. Will be remembered by his heroic deeds and his ability to consistently clog the sink.”

He chuckled. “I don’t consistently clog the sink.”

“I don’t know how you do it! It’s like you’re dumping tar and eggshells into it.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Maybe it’s your cooking. You cook too much and we have too many leftovers that go bad.”

“They wouldn’t go bad if you ate them.”

“I would eat them if you didn’t hide them behind other good food.”

They both snickered quietly. 

“You know, we have garbage disposal. We’re lucky to have the technological advancement to have such a machine.”

“I know how to use a garbage disposal. I bet you didn’t even have one in Farmville, Tennessee.”

“I had a garbage disposal! And because I had one, I know that you run hot water while you slowly add food to the disposal.”

Peter hid his flushed cheeks, embarrassed. “Fine. You win.” 

Harley stared at Peter, entranced.

“What?” he asked.

“It’s just really nice to see you smile.”

Peter smile wavered. “Well it’s not like you can tell the difference between the real ones and fake ones.” He scooted away again. “I have to finish this packet.”

.-~*~-.

“I… I think I have something that may complicate the trial.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

Harley wrung out his fingers anxiously. “My father, he’s still alive. He divorced my mother and she got full custody of us, but he is still our father. Will that… is that going to be an issue?”

Matt sucked in a breath. “It may. Though he may not have custody, due to her passing, he may have the ability to intercept the trial and apply for custody himself. However, he would have a difficult time with that considering his loss of custody privileges due to the divorce, I assume.”

“Yeah, he basically disowned us,” Harley said bitterly.

“More the reason why he isn’t a fit parent. But, I think we will need to get him in. Have him sign some papers to ensure he won’t interfere with the trial.”

Harley felt his jaw clench. “No.”

“Harley, you have to understand, it’s the safest step to proceed…”

“No. I don’t want to see that bastard again and he sure as hell doesn’t want to see me. Not after…” he stopped. “Last time we spoke, it didn’t end well, and it’s not gonna end well this time.”

“Well it’s gonna be a bigger problem if he doesn’t. He could tear this whole case to shreds. He’s a liability.”  
Harley huffed. “Fine. But you’re calling him. Not me. He works at Oscorp, janitor apparently. You can find his information through there.”

.-~*~-.

The balding man sat with his legs obnoxiously wide, leaning in his seat. He scratched at his scruffy beard.

“Thank you for meeting with us, Mr. Keener,” Matt greeted.

“Not like I had much of a choice,” he responded, disgruntled.

“Well… uh… right. Do you need me to debrief on what we discussed on the phone?”

“Don’t need to. You brought me take off good working hours to come meet you hours from where I live to give my scout’s honor.”

“I uh I wouldn’t say it like that,” Matt said awkwardly.

“Well that’s how it is.” He scanned over the documents. “If I go along with everything, do I get compensation?”

“Uh, no, that’s not how this works.”

He crossed his arms. “Well how does this work? I sign away my rights to my own son…”

“ _Daughter_ who you left when _she_ was an infant,” Harley interrupted.

“...I mean who the hell do you think you are?” Adam exclaimed.

“Who the hell do you think _you_ are, comin’ in here actin’ like…”

“Harley,” Peter said warningly, grabbing his hand. 

He relaxed. “Just sign the papers and you can be out of our lives like you wanted.”

“Well maybe I don’t wanna,” Adam said stubbornly.

“What are you talkin’ about?” Harley snapped.

“Maybe I’m a reformed man now and want to bring my family back together again. I mean, I haven’t seen my son in a long while. I should at least see him before I sign this fancy schmancy paper.”

“Her. She is a her, and if you can’t get that through your thick skull then you’re obviously not fit to be her father. You’re not seeing her. You aren’t getting anywhere _near_ her,” he seethed.

“That’s a lil harsh, dontcha think, Harley?”

“Well maybe if you didn’t make the mistake of making me, then you wouldn’t have to do with this. But that’s on you, right? Getting into such a fucked up little tizzy that you got stuck with a bitchy brat like me? Well that _is_ on you, and you’re gonna have to deal with it, because I am _not_ backing down, and I am _not_ gonna let you fuck up our lives more than you have already.”

He narrowed his eyes before grabbing the pen and muttering, “just show me where to sign already.”

Harley leaned back in his seat, his fists clenched so tight that his nails protruded into his skin. Peter took notice and did the only thing he knew to do, he grabbed his hand and rubbed it gently with his thumb.

“Is that all?” Adam asked impatiently.

“Because you have signed these documents, you are agreeing to not interfere with the trial or apply for custody. If you break these agreements, then you will be fined. Do you understand?” Matt confirmed.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” He pushed his chair out aggressively and grabbed his coat. “I’ve done what you wanted, so don’t be expectin’ to hear back from me.”

“Uh, yeah. That’s kinda the whole point.”

“You little…” he stepped towards Harley but was blocked by Matt’s strong arm. 

“I think it’s best if you get going now, Mr. Keener.”

Adam glared at Harley and stormed out of the office.

“God, he’s such a fucking… he’s so…” Harley was almost steaming from anger.

“Hey, just breathe.”

“He’s such an entitled piece of shit. He’s an arrogant, insufferable prick. He has the God damn audacity to… and he doesn’t… and he didn’t even…” Harley continued to take unlabored breaths, trying to process the encounter.

“You’re never gonna have to see him again, alright? He’s out of your life. You can move on.”

“I can’t fuckin’ move on knowing that he’s out there. Knowing that he’s just living here and he can just… and he doesn’t even… he doesn’t even give a shit about us but he just wants to have the last word and he just pisses me off so fucking much. Like who does he think he is?”

“He’s no one, Harley. Not anymore.”

“What he said to me, I… I’ve got a bad feeling about it. About this. About all of this. There’s something off about this, and I don’t know what it is yet, but I don’t got a good feeling about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love sneaking The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals references wherever I can. Also, ~*foreshadowing*~
> 
> If you want to chat, our Tumblrs are [official-impravidus](https://official-impravidus.tumblr.com/) and [StarryKitty013](https://starrykitty013.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ~impravidus


	4. Grow As We Go

Peter begrudgingly groaned as he climbed through Ned’s window and threw his backpack on the ground. “This sucks.”

Ned looked up from his desk, unpfazed by his unannounced entrance. “How so?”

“He’s just so… and he’s just… and I’m so… and he just… ugh.” He flopped onto Ned’s bed and groaned again in his pillow.

“I could give you better advice if you just told me what happened.”

“He got super drunk. Okay? That’s what happened. He got trashed and he said a lot of terrible stuff to me that really hurt my feelings.” He covered his face with his hands. “God, I sound like such a baby.”

Ned sat at the foot of the bed. “I don’t think you sound like a baby.”

“Thanks dude.” He turned his face back into the pillow. “And I guess it sucks because I’m still in love with him, you know? And like this is so textbook “bad relationship” shit, right? He was a crappy person when we met and he treated me like shit and then out of nowhere he doesn’t which just feels so out of the blue and maybe it was out of the blue because he was being manipulative or something and then he says that and it’s like how he used to be and I mean like, I really thought he was different. That he changed. But he didn’t. And like I can’t keep fooling myself to think that he’ll ever love me back because he doesn’t and I’m trying I’m really trying to just move on and get over him but I can’t because all I want to do is pretend it didn’t happen and go back to the way things were but it isn’t how things used to be and it can’t be.”

“Wait, you just said how crappy he is but you’re also…”

“Yeah, I’m also in love with him. But I can’t be because I’m also so freaking mad at him right now.”

Ned gave a lopsided frown. “If you want things to get better, you’re gonna have to tell him. Eventually.”

Peter was silent for a moment. “I hate when you’re right.” He turned around. “I just, I know what he’s gonna do. He’s gonna apologize and give me those Harley Keener eyes and then I’m gonna melt into a puddle of affection and forgive him when I shouldn’t and I don’t want to do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m mad at him!” 

Ned laughed softly. “Peter, you know you’re like circular argument 101 right now, right?”

“Don’t use AP Lit against me!” He groaned. “I just don’t want to get hope because I can just move on from what he said to me.”

“You don’t have to move on, then. But you also don’t have to move on from him.”

.-~*~-.

Peter pulled at his tie uncomfortably. He wasn’t much of the suit type because he mostly associated them with stuffy, loud dances or depressing funeral services. 

Harley knocked lightly on their bedroom door. “May I come in?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Peter responded.

As Harley entered, Peter felt his breath hitch. The taller teen wore a perfectly tailored dark blue suit, obviously bought by Tony Stark.

Harley fiddled with the cufflinks anxiously. “We should probably get going soon. Don’t want to be late. First impressions and all that.”

Peter nodded, unable to think of words. “Yeah. The first hearing is very important.”

“You look nice,” Harley said, after building up the confidence.

“Thanks.” He wanted to tell him the same but he couldn’t find the courage to. “I was thinking that while Abby is here we could do something special. It’s the holiday season and I know how much she loves music, so I was thinking there’s probably something going on in Broadway and I have an old IOU from Mr. Stark after May… because we were gonna see something together but never got to because of everything that happened, so I’m sure he would get us tickets. I just thought it’d be a good gesture but I know I’m not enough for you to...”

“Why do you keep saying that?” he interrupted. “That you’re not enough? That I don’t care? I thought we were alright. I thought things were finally… What about us? And Thanksgiving? And this? I thought that maybe that now I knew your, your secret, that things would finally be making sense, but now things make even less sense because now I feel like we’ve taken five steps back every step we take and I don’t know why. So please,  _ please,  _ just tell me what’s wrong. Talk to me. Yell at me. Do anything but sit there ignoring me and responding with cryptic jabs because Peter, honestly, I don’t know what to do without you and I  _ don’t know what I did wrong. _ ”

“It’s because you said it, Harley! Okay? You’re the one who told me I wasn’t enough.”

Harley stepped back, confused, looking slightly affronted. “No I didn’t.”

“Yes. You did. When you got drunk, you yelled at me and told me how you really felt. So you can drop the act. I know now.”

“I didn’t…”

“But you did, Harley. I know you when you’re drunk and you always were an honest drunk, and believe me, I would know because you were drunk a lot.”

“But I, Peter I, you have to believe me, I don’t, I would never,” he took a breath, “I would never say that to you sober.”

“Well you said it to me drunk and you can’t exactly wipe my memory so, yeah.”

“Peter.” He grabbed his hand but Peter pulled away. “Peter,” he said softer, placing his palm on his cheek. He rubbed his thumb on his skin lightly. “Please. I don’t and would never feel that way towards you. Whatever I said? That wasn’t me. I don’t want to make excuses and I know that I can never take back what I said to you, but please I, I will go to the ends of the Earth to make it up to you, to prove to you that I’m not that person and that you are the one thing that grounds me to this hell of a world we are thrown into. You are the light down that terrifying tunnel that I teeter down and you are the gravity that keeps me tethered to the floor. I won’t stop until you know how much I… how much I love you. And you don’t have to love me back. That’s okay. But know that I do. That I love you, Peter Parker. And that’s… if it’s too late for that, then that’s okay. Because at least, it’s out there. And you know now. So just, just please I, say something.”

“How can you love me when you said…”

“What I said doesn’t mean anything. What I’m saying now? This is real. This is what I feel.”

“You really don’t remember? Not at all?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I really don’t.”

“Oh.”

“Peter, I promise you that I will never get that drunk ever again. It’s what’s best for Abby and what’s best for us. I was drunk and bad things happen when I’m drunk. I’ve learned that. Can we leave that in the past? Make a new future? A new now?”

“I will. For Abby.” Harley stepped forward to hug the smaller teen, but Peter retracted. “We aren’t, I’m not ready for this yet, Harley.”

Harley nodded and stepped back. “Are we okay?”

“Yeah, we’re okay. But things need to get better.” He checked his watch. “We have to get to the courthouse. The hearing is gonna start soon.”

.-~*~-.

“Temporary guardianship,” Harley said blankly.

“Temporary guardianship,” Peter repeated.

“That’s good right? Progress? O-or is it bad? Like is that like a “oh here’s a false blanket of security before we rip it from underneath your feet” kind of thing? Because if it’s the latter, I’m not ready for that.”

“I think it’s a good thing. We’re gonna prove awesome of guardians we are and then they’re gonna give us full guardianship.”

“And you’re still okay with doing it with me?” Harley asked softly.

“Of course. Whatever is happening between us will never get in the way of my dedication to Abby. I haven’t known her long but I would do anything for her.”

Harley smiled. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem. I mean it.” 

“Look at us. Co-guardians.” Peter swept his hand in front of him as if the words were spelled out in the air.

“Hey! It was rather this or you being her godfather.”

“I'll make him an offer he can't refuse,” Peter said with a bad impression.

“Great men are not born great, they grow great,” Harley replied with a goofy grin.

“Revenge is a dish that tastes best when served cold!”

“Friendship is everything. Friendship is more than talent. It is more than the government. It is almost the equal of family.”

Peter smiled softly. “Yeah. You’re right.”

Harley’s eyes lingered too long at Peter’s lips. “We should probably go pick her up then, shouldn’t we?”

“Stop worrying. This is great news.”

“But what if I…”

“You’re not gonna screw up and you’re not gonna disappoint her and you’re not gonna say or do the wrong thing. She loves you no matter what and you’re gonna do amazing.”

Harley lingered his gaze at Peter for a little too long. “Thank you. Really.”

“And stop thanking me. There’s nothing to thank.”

“But there is. What you’ve done… what you’re doing… I don’t know how I could ever repay you,” he said sincerely.

“How about you make me some of my favorite meatloaf and we’ll call it even.”

He grinned. “You made me an offer I can’t refuse.”

.-~*~-.

“I just got off the phone with Sharon. Brought her up to date with everything.” Harley relaxed in his seat.

“How are you gonna tell her?” Peter asked.

“I have no clue. Do I just tell her ‘you’re gonna come live with me but it may not be forever but I hope it is?’”

“Maybe not like that,” Peter said with a chuckle.

“I just… I don’t want to get her hopes up too much.”

“But you can because it’s gonna work out. Temporary guardianship isn’t a maybe, it’s a step to the finish line. Her word in court will have weight and you crushed the first hearing. The second will be a piece of a cake. If anything it’ll just be you proving how much of a boss you are at being a guardian.”

“Boss? Haven’t heard that in a decade,” Harley noted.

“Oh shut up. The decade is ending and I’ve been watching a lot of old YouTube videos,” Peter responded defensively.

“Sure, sure.”

“Really!”

“Whatever you say.”

They both laughed, a calm silence following after. It felt normal. More normal than it had in a long time, and they liked it a lot. 

“Hey, about that night…” Harley started.

“We don’t have to…”

“But we do,” Harley insisted. “I know I wasn’t gonna make excuses but I… I felt like I had to tell you what happened. Why I… I know I shouldn’tve, but it was, this is no excuse but I… my dad. He called that day.”

“He what?” Peter asked, shocked.

“He said he wanted money or something. Didn’t even know that Mama passed away. That’s how I found out he was working at Oscorp, or here at all really. Then he got real pissed at me and he said some things and I… it must’ve still really been on my mind because I… I must’ve been projecting what he said to me onto you because I would never… I wouldn’t…”

“Harley, I get it.”

“No, you really don’t. Peter I… he’s a bad guy, and he brings out the absolute worst in me. You saw it yesterday. He riles me up and pushes all my buttons and he does everything in his power to keep that control over me. He’s not a good man and to think that he even had the ability to make me… or make me want to… I just, I’m so sorry.”

“I didn’t know,” Peter finally said.

“I didn’t tell you. Didn’t know how.” 

“We can get through this. I can’t say I forgive you because I just… but I accept your apology. And I at least know why you didn’t come to me that day. I forgive you for that. Just don’t… please never feel like you can’t come to me about something. Never feel that you have to bottle it up and drink.”

“I won’t," he said firmly. "Now that I’ve got Abby, I’m never letting myself do that again.”

“You’re gonna get through this.” He unthinkingly rested his hand over Harley’s.

He squeezed it softly. “ _ We _ are.”

.-~*~-.

Harley and Peter tiptoed their way to Abby’s room, knocking on the door.

“You don’t have to knock, Sharon. I…” she turned around. Her eyes went wide. “Harley! What are you doing here? Sharon didn’t tell me you were…”

“It was a surprise,” Harley explained.

“The best surprise ever!” She hugged him with as tight of a grip that she could muster. 

“Well I’ve got another surprise for you.”

“You do?” she questioned, eyes curious.

“You’re gonna come to New York with me.”

“Like… like a trip?” she asked, wanting another answer.

“No. For a while, actually. You’re gonna live with me and Peter for a while, if that’s okay with you.”

“It worked? I’m actually gonna…”

“You are.”

Her eyes welled with tears. “Thank you, Harley.” She gave him another hug. “And thank you, Peter.” 

“Of course, kiddo,” Peter said.

“So how about we do some packing? I brought some suitcases for you to take your stuff in,” Harley said.

“Okay! Let me go tell Sharon!” she said before rushing down the stairs.

When he knew she was gone, Harley covered his mouth as he let out a teary sob. “I can’t believe this is actually happening. I… this is all I’ve wanted since she… and now it’s coming true.” 

Peter could tell Harley was crumbling fast, and he led him to the foot of Abby’s bed, pulling him into a sideways hug to let him freely let out his emotions. “These are good tears, right? This is a good thing?”

“This is a great thing, Peter. It’s… it’s amazing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early update because I have district choir tomorrow and I'm gonna be out of town on Sunday. :)
> 
> If you want to chat, our Tumblrs are [official-impravidus](https://official-impravidus.tumblr.com/) and [StarryKitty013](https://starrykitty013.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ~impravidus


	5. It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We love having a timeline that doesn't match up with the real world at all. Christmas in February I suppose.
> 
> If you want to chat, our Tumblrs are [official-impravidus](https://official-impravidus.tumblr.com/) and [StarryKitty013](https://starrykitty013.tumblr.com/)

“It’s so loud.”

Peter laughed. “Yeah, it gets pretty loud.” He unconsciously ran his fingers over his sound dampening earbuds — or as he called them: SDBuds — that rested in his ears.

“Boston’s pretty loud too, but not as much as here. You’ve got so many cars and people,” Abby stated.

“You get used to it. Though, sometimes I miss the quiet that we had in Rose Hill,” Harley said, smiling softly in the distance.

The three were wandering around Times Square, window shopping and taking in the sights at the, unfortunately, busiest time of the year. 

“Harley! Look! There’s an M&M world!” Abby exclaimed.

“Abs, you know you can’t have M&Ms. You’re allergic.”

She pouted, giving him big doe eyes. “Not _that_ allergic. I only had a reaction like once, and it was because I ate a bunch.”

“We aren’t risking it. I’m sorry. But, there’s other cool stores. Like the Nintendo store! You like Nintendo. And the Lego store is across from there.”

Peter gasped. “We’re going to the Lego store!?” 

Harley chuckled at the smaller teen. “We can if you’d like.”

“Can we go? Please? Can we go? I want to go. Please? Please?”

“Whatever you want, dar…” he cut himself off. “Yeah, let’s head over there.”

As they crossed the street, as per usual, Abby insisted on them both holding Harley’s hand, something they had to do a lot in the crowded streets of New York. Peter couldn’t help his cheeks flushing into a bright pink, hoping that he could chalk it up to the brisk winter air and his lack of thermoregulation.

“Hey, is it too cold for you?” Harley asked.

 _Perfect opportunity._ “Yeah, I’m really cold.”

“We’re almost at the store. Here.” He wrapped his toned arm around his shoulders.

Somehow, Peter’s face got even flushed. “Yeah, that’s… warmer. Thanks.”

“Don’t want you to go into hibernation or somethin’.”

“I’m not going to go into hibernation,” Peter mumbled.

“Well how should I know? Just last week, I found out about your repulsion to peppermint. I don’t know what other,” he lowered his voice, “spider-y things you’ve got goin’ on.”

“Well it’s your fault for putting peppermint into my hot chocolate without telling me.”

“I didn’t expect you to vomit all over my shirt! I thought it was gonna be a fun holiday twist on your favorite drink. Instead it was—”

“Yeah yeah I know. I used to like it and I’m sure pre-bite Peter would’ve loved it. It was a nice sentiment, I guess. But that’s a lesson learned. Do your spider research.”

“I did! And it said they went into hibernation!”

“Well I’m not a spider!”

“Well that’s what you just said!”

“Guys!” Abby interrupted. “We’re here.”

The two looked up. “Oh.”

“Come on, Petey! Let’s go look at the Legos!” Abby grabbed his hand and pulled him quickly (well as quickly as a nine year old can) into the store.

Harley strolled casually behind him with a goofy grin, observing as Peter listened to Abby ramble about the giant Lego snowman.

He took a detour in the shop, searching for the recent apple of Peter’s eye, but his jaw dropped when he read the price tag. “Seven hundred dollars for a Lego Imperial Star Destroyer?” he asked aloud, flabbergasted. Guess that was off the table. He made his way to join Peter and Abby who were looking at the more reasonable sets. 

“See anything you like, Abby? Maybe Santa will get it for you,” Harley said.

Abby rolled her eyes. “I know Santa’s not real, Harley. I’m not a baby.”

“You never know. You have to believe.”

She shoved his arm, a playful smile on her lips. “Whatever.”

.-~*~-.

As the three sat on a cramped subway, Harley’s hand gripped tightly around Abby’s and his arm draped over Peter’s shoulders, Peter couldn’t help but melt in the safety of Harley’s warmth. It felt right.

“So what are you asking Santa for Christmas?” Harley asked Peter.

“Santa can’t bring me what I want,” Peter said, disappointment evident in his tone.

“Then maybe I can?” 

He looked up to the blonde teen who looked down with hope. “We don’t have to do gifts, Harley. I mean, technically any gift that goes to you from Abby is coming from my money, but I mean…”

“Then what if _Abby_ wants to get _you_ a gift? Would that be okay?”

Peter looked bashfully at his feet. “I suppose that’s okay.”

“Then what are you asking Santa for Christmas?”

“I just want to have a Christmas filled with love and new memories and new traditions and new fam…” he trailed off. “I just, I don’t want Christmas to be sad. I want to make cookies and sing Christmas carols and eat ham and decorate a tree and just… I want… I want it to be the best Christmas. Because if… if she can’t be here, then I want it to be everything she wished it could be.”

“Then we’re going to make it the best Christmas ever. For her. For them.”

And that’s how Peter and Harley ended up carrying giant Christmas tree and ornament boxes for what felt like a mile from their storage unit to their apartment. The weight was practically nothing for Peter, but Harley had to take constant breaks to rest his arms.

“Are we almost there?” Harley asked.

“One more block,” Peter assured.

He groaned, his arms feeling like Jell-o. “I’m so out of shape.”

Peter didn’t respond.

“And that’s it! That’s the confirmation! Your silence speaks words unspoken!”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Then what _did_ you mean?”

“Well you’re not… out of shape.”

Harley whined. “Just say it! Say that I am a weak slab of meat compared to your perfectly chiseled body!”

“I’m not gonna say that.”

“You know, when I was in High School Musical, I was in the best shape that I’ve ever been in my entire life. It was peak Harley Keener physicality. Do you think that’s it? I peaked physically at fifteen years old?”

“You can start working out, you know. You have the time,” Peter stated.

“My body isn’t made for working out. My body is made for sitting at a desk, occasionally standing at a desk, hunched over as I write equations.”

“You’re being a drama queen.”

“I’m being realistic!” 

Abby cleared her throat loudly. 

“What?” Harley exclaimed.

“We’re here,” Abby stated, for the second time of the day.

“Thank God,” Harley muttered.

With another five minutes of Harley complaining how it’s “even harder to carry this box up stairs,” they finally arrived to the apartment, Harley dropping the box on the ground and collapsing to the floor, arms extended. 

“You aight?” Peter asked.

“No,” Harley responded.

While Harley let his muscles finally relax, Peter carefully set the tree box in the corner of the room. “Abby, do you want to start getting your room ready?”

Her eyes lit up. “Yes! Yes yes yes!”

“So we got the lime green paint just like you asked…”

“Woohoo!”

“But our first step is taping the room. Have you ever taped a room before?” 

She shook her head. “But I can learn!”

“Let’s go do that.”

Peter utilized his special skills to his advantage, and scaled the walls to get an even pressure and application on the tape. Abby focused on the trim at the bottom of the room, moving slowly with precision.

As they finished the room, Abby stood to stretch out her back. “You know what we need?”

“What do we need?” Peter asked.

“We need juice. Let’s go get some juice.”

And juice they did get, and man was it some good juice. Peter had stocked up on Caprisuns for Abby’s arrival, and was happily sipping at his pouch of Tropical Punch. 

“Are y’all drinking Caprisun without me?” Harley asked.

“Can you even have this? Aren’t you allergic to like every fruit imaginable?”

“Just the ones with pits,” Harley corrected. “And yes, I can have Caprisun.”

“Well go get your own Caprisun. I’m not your maid,” Peter said, reclining further into the couch.

“I see you’ve moved all the stuff out of the office,” Harley said.

“You mean my room,” Abby pointed out.

“Right. Should we go make room for them in our room?” Harley asked Peter.

“Yeah, we can go do that,” Peter said, pulling himself out of the comfort of the couch.

The two didn’t say anything, Harley instead silently struggled to pull his bed away from the wall.

“Need help with that?” Peter smirked.

“Shut up and pick up the bed.” Harley grumbled.

“Of course.” Peter responded, amused at his frustration. Sliding under the bed, he lifted the frame from underneath and above his head. 

“Show off,” Harley muttered.

“Where do you want it?” he asked, not even phased by the weight he was holding.

“Put it next to mine. If our beds are next to each other, we will have room for the desks on the other side of the room.”

“Mhm.” He turned the bed to face the wall. “Grab the other side, will ya?”

“O-oh. Okay.” Harley reluctantly raised his arms, trying his best to support whatever would be coming down, his arms still sore from earlier.

“I’m gonna lower this slowly and take it by the other side, okay?” 

“Yup,” he responded, strained already by the heavy frame.

“Okay, ready? One, two, three!” The bed dropped with a slight thud. “Perfect. I can just…” He pushed the bed against the wall gently. “And we’re good. I can get the desks, don’t worry about it.”

Feeling slightly useless, Harley merely nodded. “Okay. I’ll go hang out with Abby.” As he exited their bedroom, he took notice of the small girl staring at the decor adorning the walls. 

“I didn’t notice it the first time I came here. This was in the living room at home. I mean, our old house. With…”

“Yeah. Peter thought it would be nice to have both of our stuff out, to represent both our families and such.”

“Is it hard? Seeing it all? Seeing all of her stuff everyday and just… because when I was in Boston it was almost easier to… to sometimes forget because I wasn’t anywhere near home and there wasn’t anything there reminding me of her except for myself and the fact that I was alone and I… I don’t know I just… sometimes it’s easier to forget than to remember. It was so easy to get distracted in Winter Showcases and choir concerts and boy drama instead of just… of just…”

“I get it, Abs. I do,” Harley interrupted. “I know you’ve been grieving your own way and you needed some space. But I think, it’s gonna be good to be together because now we have each other to lean on.”

“I love you,” she said quietly.

“I love you too.” He pulled her into a hug. “C’mere, squirt.” He kissed the top of her head. “Everything is gonna be okay.”

.-~*~-.

Peter took the lime green brush once up and down as he heard the two siblings bicker behind him. May loved to change their walls with him every few months so this brought all sorts of warm longing feelings as he tuned out the Keeners.

“Peter goes up and down see!” Abby pointed to Peter who stiffened at the mention of his name. He turned and flinched back a little as Abby was right next to him observing his technique. 

“Uh, Yeah. But you’ve gotta be careful around the taped edges Peter replies. “But uh, that’s boring so you can… uh here.” He thrust the paint brush out to Abby and she grabbed a hold of it. He guided her hand in the motion.

She giggled. “This is fun! Thanks Petey!”

“Hey, Harley? Can you…” he turned around and got brushful of paint on Harley’s shirt. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I totally didn’t mean to… I mean… I’m sorry… I didn’t…”

Harley placed his hand on the wet paint and pressed his palm to Peter’s cheek.

“Oh? Is that how it’s gonna be?” He covered his hand with paint and pulled his fingers down Harley’s arm.

Harley looped his arm around Peter’s waist to get the paint on his shirt onto his.

“Oh you…”

Their water bill suffered from their long showers that afternoon.

.-~*~-.

After a well needed sandwich break, the three gathered around the tree, meticulously decorating its plastic branches, the soft serenade of Michael Buble in the background. 

Harley held up a frog with a top hat. “Back or front of the tree?”

“Front. Obviously. Put it near the middle.”

“What does that even have to do with Christmas?” Abby asked. 

“I’ll have you know that this frog with a top hat is to celebrate the Lord.”

Abby held up a plain metallic red bulb. “Back or front of the tree?” 

“Back, bottom.”

Peter awed as he pulled out a homemade Popsicle stick sled with a photo of seven year old Harley in full snow gear posed atop it. “You were so cute, Harley.”

“Oh, and I’m not cute now?” He bit back his words as he realized the implications.

“You’re a pain in the ass is what you are.”

“Junior mint, Peter!” Harley looked to Abby, a jokingly disapproving frown on his face.

Abby held up a summer Santa ornament. “Front or back?”

“Front middle.”

“You know, MJ has been going on and on about how Christmas not only celebrates a misconceived date of Christ’s birth but also a capitalistic ploy to scam people for the guilt of giving,” Harley said.

“Oh not you too, Harley.”

“You didn’t let me finish. She may have been trying to convince me of its malicious intent, but I like to find the magic in Christmas. I mean, there’s just this childlike wonder that comes with sitting under the tree and opening presents. The way that the Christmas lights reflect off of the snowy trees and the scent of pine—”

“Which we don’t have because this is a fake tree,” Peter interjected.

“We have candles,” Harley quipped back. “And it’s just Christmas, you know? It’s just being with the people you love doing things that everyone loves to do: eat stuff, drink stuff, and get stuff.”

“Classy. I like a man with taste,” Peter said teasingly.

Harley’s breath hitched, caught in his throat. 

Abby held up a bulb with a picture of a young Harley. “Front or back?”

“Front middle,” Peter responded.

Abby pressed the button on the side of the ornament and suddenly young Harley’s voice was sounding from it saying: “Merry Christmas, 2008, from Harley,” with a babbling, “Mewwemewwemewechwima” from Abby in the background, “and AJ!”

“AJ?” Peter asked.

“Adam Jr. My old name,” Abby explained.

“Ah.” Peter pulled out the ones with pictures of her before her transition. “Back of the tree.”

“What is the worst Christmas gift you’ve ever gotten?” Harley asked.

“Probably a DDR set.”

“What’s wrong with Dance Dance Revolution?” Harley questioned, surprised. “That game slaps.”

“Well it doesn’t slap when you’re extremely asthmatic and get an asthma attack one minute into “Butterfly” by Smile.dk.”

Harley and Abby laugh. “That makes sense. What about you Abby? I think I have an idea.”

“Ah yes, the Christmas of 2017,” Abby stated.

“What happened the Christmas of 2017?” Peter asked.

“That was the year I realized I wasn’t a boy, so Mama, trying to support me, got the most gaudy and Jojo Siwa, in your face, girly clothes she could find. I’m talking pink and sparkles and sequins and ruffles and tutus. It was the thought that counted and I ended up loving them, but it was a rough transition from AJ to Abby.”

“Well you made it. And now you’re in New York. Fresh start. New Abby.”

She smiled. “New Abby.”

“And what about you, Harley? What is your Christmas horror story?”

“Well, I once got a button up covered in marijuana leaves because she thought it was just a floral pattern, and I was too young to know, so I got sent to the principal’s office when I wore it to school that following week.”

“Yikes!” Peter laughed.

“What about Christmas horror stories not related to the presents?”

“I don’t know. We didn’t do much for Christmas. I guess the first Christmas with May and Ben when they let me have eggnog, not realizing that it was not only alcoholic, but also had dairy which I couldn’t have. I was pretty sick that night.”

“Oh no!” Abby exclaimed. “Harley. Tell him about Grandpa George.”

“Oh Grandpa George. So we had this big block party on Christmas, and our Grandpa George was playing Santa. However, he got hammered and didn’t stay in character, scarring most of the children there.”

“Oh boy. We all know a Grandpa George,” Peter said.

“That we do.”

Harley held up a sparkly silver spiral. “Front or back?”

“Back middle.”

Abby opened up more ornaments and gasped. “Little fruit!”

“Oh I love the little fruit,” Peter said with a smile. “Those go on the top of the tree.”

“Harley! Harley! Help me up so I can put up the little fruit.”

And that was their night. Peaceful bliss of reminiscing and creating new memories because that’s what they all desperately needed. New memories. Together.


	6. This Christmas I Gave You My Heart (and the very next day you gave it away)

So, their Christmas Eve was having a bit of a rough start.

To start off their first Parker-Keener Christmas Eve, they thought they’d continue the Parker tradition of a movie. However, the new Frozen movie struck a chord with the group of orphans, listening to the constant talk of dead parents. It ended with the three exited the theatre early, Peter with shaky hands and shallow breaths, Harley nearly catatonic in shock, and Abby with silent tears streaming down her cheeks.

Taking a well needed breath on the bench inside the movie theatre, those passing by giving an odd look at the bunch, they settled themselves on their own, Peter gripping Harley’s hand a little too tight and Abby soaking his shirt.

“Well that sucked,” Harley said with a wet laugh.

“I’m sorry you guys. I didn’t realize it would… I should’ve guessed,” Peter said.

“It’s okay, Petey. I love Frozen. Or I did. You were just trying to make me happy,” Abby responded, a small hiccup in between.

“Do you know what we need?” Peter asked rhetorically. “We need to go to the best place in New York.”

“And where’s that?” Harley questioned with a raised brow.

“You’ll see.”

With a fresh layer of snow on the grass, a sea of jubilant children and their furry friends ran freely around the local dog park. Wagged tailed puppies getting snow stuck in their fur as they rolled in the snow greeted the shaken crew.

Abby’s smile grew. “Puppies!”

“Now, Abby. You’ve gotta ask first before you go and pet any of these puppies, alright?”

She nodded excitedly, and ran out towards a woman in a bright purple jacket with a large Bernese Mountain Dog.

“This was really smart, Peter. She really needed this,” Harley said.

“Who said this was just for Abby? I come here a lot. So much in fact that…” he waved to a couple with a Golden Retriever who called out a “hi, Peter!” “I’ve gotten to know a lot of the regulars. So, do you wanna go pet some dogs, or what?”

Harley grinned. “What are we waiting for?”

The three blew off some steam, throwing tennis balls for exuberant English Foxhounds, giving belly rubs to amicable Alaskan Malamutes, and chasing cheery Chihuahuas. Peter was keeping his warmth with all the running, but he was finding that he was getting worn out and Abby’s ears were getting red.

“How does a nice caramel hot chocolate with whipped cream and caramel drizzle sound?” Peter offered.

Abby’s eyes lit up. “That sounds yummy!”

“There’s a Starbucks down the street. Let’s go warm up.” He grabbed Abby’s mittened hand in and Harley’s hand in his other and led them down the bustling streets.

.-~*~-.

Returning back to the apartment after a midday snack of caramel hot chocolate and crappy Starbucks pastries, the three began their baking extravaganza.

Christmas music blared in their small apartment as they shuffled around the cramped kitchen. Peter couldn’t help but stare at Harley as he effortless danced across the room, his flannel rolled to his elbows and his muscles flexed as he mixed the cookie dough. Peter was on the job of molasses cookies, something that required no additional baking skills rather than measuring and dumping in the mixing bowl.

Abby was swinging her feet happily as she sat at the counter, spooning icing on the sugar cookies that Harley had prepared before her arrival.

“Menakomelimaka is the thing to say…” Peter sang quietly to himself.

“Those are  _ not  _ the lyrics,” Harley said with a chuckle.

“Oh? And you’re a Hawaiian expert, are you?” Peter challenged.

“It’s ‘mele kalikimaka.’ Just wait. Listen.” They both paused and waited for the song to repeat the phrase. Harley sang along. “ _ Mele kalikimaka is Hawaii's way to say Merry Christmas to you.” _

“Alright alright.  _ Fine.  _ You win.” Peter turned back to his mixer. “Do you think they’re done mixing?”

Harley took a look at the batter that had been obviously over-mixed. “Uh yeah. I think they are.”

Peter hummed in content and shut off the mixer. “Now what do I do?”

“Get a heaping tablespoon of batter and roll it into a ball and then roll it in sugar,” Harley explained.

“Do I just… dunk it into the sugar bag?” Peter asked in confusion.

“No. Ya put it in a bowl.” Harley handed him one.

“Riiiiight. I knew that. Obviously. Kidding.” 

There was a comfortable silence, the music filling any awkwardness that could’ve accumulated. 

“I have to go to take a shower,” Abby abruptly announced.

Harley chuckled. “Alright. You know where it is?” 

“Mhm,” she said loudly. When she knew Peter wasn’t looking she glared at her brother and mouthed, “fix this; talk to him.” “I’m gonna be a while.”

“So uh Peter I—”

“So Harley I—”

“You first—”

“No you go ahead—”

“Sorry I’ll just—”

“I’m just gonna—”

They both laughed.

“I think these are turning a little bit more like lumps than spheres,” Peter said.

“They don’t have to be perfect. We’re gonna smush them down when we’re done.”

“Right.”

Harley turned down the music. “Peter I…”

“Yeah?” 

And there it was. Those big brown eyes looking up at him, a little bit of chocolate on his jaw and powdered sugar speckling his cheeks, with that innocent Peter Parker furrowed brow. It was just the way that he looked at him, not even knowing that he was his world. He didn’t even know how much he saved him. He didn’t even know how much he lo… 

“Harley? Were you going to say something?”

“I… I was just gonna say that you’re missing some spots. Let me show you how it’s done.” He grabbed a ball of dough and rolled it around in the sugar. “See?”

“Right.” He continued on.

Harley, needing an excuse to not speak, began to snack on the barely dried sugar cookies that Abby was working on. 

“Harley?” 

“Hm?” He turned to Peter.

The brown haired boy let out a bubbly laugh. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just. You’ve got a lot…” he pointed to his mouth.

He ran his tongue over his lips. “Did I get it?”

He giggled again. “No, you didn’t. Here, let me just,” he took his thumb and wiped off the icing, unthinkingly popping it into his mouth after. 

Harley’s eyes flickered to his lips. Peter’s eyes flickered to Harley’s. And then it was a dance, looking into each other’s eyes and at each other’s lips, unspoken words asked through their stolen glances. 

And then his lips were on his. Peter tasted of molasses cookie batter that he had been stealing tastes of the entire afternoon. Harley tasted of pure sugar and the remnants of caramel hot chocolate. 

In that moment, nothing mattered. Whatever tension, whatever anger, whatever grudges that he had been holding were cast aside. Instead there was him and there was Harley and there were his cold chapped lips on his. Peter found himself trying to close any space they had previously had between them, pushing his chest against his, running his fingers through Harley’s hair.

Harley guided Peter to the fridge, pressing his back against the chilled doors. A warm shiver rushed down his spine as Peter slipped a hand up his shirt and tugged at his blonde locks. It wasn’t gentle or slow, it was desperate, something that had been waiting on the back burner since their first kiss. It was the urgency, the need to do what they hadn’t gotten the chance to finish.

Breathless, Harley managed to squeak out a meek, “couch” before stumbling backwards, trying to not lose the momentum or the moment. He landed onto the couch, Peter’s light frame atop his, positioned perfectly between his legs. Harley trailed kisses down Peter’s neck, not shying away from roughly leaving hickies behind, knowing they would disappear in an hour. Peter failed to bite back the “Harley” that ripped out from his throat. 

And damn, if Peter wasn’t perfect before, that was the best thing he had ever heard. 

However long they were together, the spaceless close proximity of pure passion, was not nearly long enough. When they heard the shower shut off, they pulled away.

“Okay, to be able to face my sister, I need to get far far away from you.” He looked down, indicating awkwardly at his predicament.

“Yeah, I think I need to cool down too. I’m gonna go to the bedroom and I don’t know, think about Mr. Stark’s leaked nudes or something to get rid of this.”

Harley laughed. “Thanks. That image alone is enough to ruin the mood.”

“Harley. We will talk about this. Just, not now,” Peter said.

“Yeah. I think that’s smart.”

.-~*~-.

Now with what felt like an endless supply of cookies, the three got settled on the couch, Chinese takeout in hand.

“Since it is Christmas Eve, we gotta do our Christmas Eve traditions,” Harley stated.

“Right! I prepared for this.” Peter grabbed twp poorly wrapped presents from under the tree. “This is for you,” he gave it to Harley, “and this is for you,” he gave it to Abby, “and which one is mine?”

“It’s the one in the Trader Joe’s bag,” Harley said.

“Classy.”

“Youngest first,” Harley declared.

Abby impatiently ripped open hers, a bright glow in her eye as she saw the fluffy pair of light blue snowman pajama pants and a loose white t-shirt to match with a snowman with anime eyes.

“Thank you!” She gave Peter and Harley hugs and went back to her spot.

“Alright, Peter. You’re next,” Harley said.

“Yeah yeah, I know.” He awed as he recognized the design. “You got me golden retriever pajamas?”

“You do love Ms. Pickett’s golden retriever.”

“How can you not love Cooper?” Peter asked with a goofy grin. “Your turn! Your turn!”

Harley’s jaw dropped as he opened his present. “You got me pajamas with  _ your  _ face on it _?” _

“It was Mr. Stark’s idea. He paid for them so he’s the one you should thank for this amazing present.”

“Right. ‘Thank.’ Great, I have to wear these tonight.”

“And tomorrow morning when we are opening presents and taking photos.”

“Great.”

“Let’s go get changed!”

.-~*~-.

The night felt perfect. It was underbudget Halmark movies and getting stuffed with Lo Mein and sugar cookies and Harley begrudgingly admitting that the pajamas, though stupid, were extremely comfortable. It was Peter curling up into Harley’s side and Abby falling asleep on his lap. 

As the night came to a close, Peter carried Abby to her room, leaving the two alone.

“So...” Peter said.

“So…” Harley parroted.

“That kiss was—”

“Yeah.”

“And you—”

“Yeah.”

“And we almost—”

“Yeah.”

“Do you wanna—”

“Yes.”

And his lips were back on his. His brain was short-circuiting, the only thought in his mind being “Harley, Harley, Harley.” There were hands on skin, shirts on the floor. Peter was almost lost in the moment. Almost.

“Wait wait,” Peter cut in, out of breath. “We need to… we gotta talk about this.”

Harley pulled away, trying to put himself together as much as he could. “Okay. I’m all ears. Shoot. What do we need to talk about?”

“I just… we’re supposed to take it slow.”

“Says who?” 

“Says… well says no one but me.”

“Well if says you, then we’ll take it slow. However slow you need.”

“It’s not that. We’ve already crossed the threshold of moving too fast. I… I was mad at you.”

“Are you  _ still  _ mad at me?”

“Well I… well I don’t know.”

Harley frowned in concern. “Was what we’ve been doing… was it… were you not…”

“No! No this is, yeah it’s completely consensual. Don’t worry about that.”

“Then what is it that I  _ should  _ be worried about?” Harley asked, not sure if he wanted the answer.

“Nothing.  _ Nothing.  _ I just… I’m just…” He took a breath. “These last few days? It’s been amazing. It’s been unbelievable. And I… I love being with you and Abby. And I love the time we’ve had together. And I lo…” He stopped. “And I just don’t want to mess things up. I mean, we’re gonna be parents technically. And what if we… what if  _ this _ doesn’t work out? Abby needs us and we technically have to live with each other for another half a year because of the CPS contract we signed, so what if getting too involved screws things up?”

“You have to plan for the worst but hope for the best. You keep saying these what ifs, but what if it  _ does  _ work? What if we can stay happy together and we get guardianship and we get into schools close to each other and we make it? What if we live a happy life together outside of all this shit? What if… what if we can just be this happy all the time?”

“Do you really mean it?” Peter asked, a quiet whisper.

“I wouldn’t be saying it if I didn’t mean it.” He took Peter’s hands into his. “I love you, Peter. And you don’t have to say it yet. But you need to know that. Know that I love you.” He stood up. “Now, I’m gonna give you a moment to breathe and grab us a tub of neapolitan ice cream from the bodega down the street. You have three choices. You can go out on a Christmas Eve patrol, go to sleep early, or wait for me to come back and watch another crappy movie about a straight white baker man teaching a straight white city girl about the joy of Christmas while dishing out that tub and maybe kiss me more if you want to. Whatever it is, I’m just gonna walk down the block and back. You can make up your mind while I’m gone.” He gave a soft kiss on the forehead, slipped on his shirt and jacket, and was out the door. 

Peter stared at the door. He consistently checked his phone, watching the time and waited for Harley to come back with that ice cream, but as five minutes turned to ten turned to twenty, Peter began to panic.

Harley didn’t come back through that door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhhhhh........... oops?
> 
> If you want to chat, our Tumblrs are [official-impravidus](https://official-impravidus.tumblr.com/) and [StarryKitty013](https://starrykitty013.tumblr.com/)


	7. He's Not Here

Something in his gut was twisted. The impending feeling of dread that washed over him. Something was wrong. Very wrong. 

He knew he shouldn’t leave Abby alone in the apartment, but he was only going to be gone for a minute. Two minutes. Maybe five minutes max. Right? Because there’s nothing to find. Nothing to find but Harley walking back to the apartment. Everything is fine. Everything is gonna be fine. Everything is…

He slipped his Spider-Man mask over Abby’s head so he could track her vitals while he was gone.  _ I’m not going to be gone for long. I’m gonna be right back. I’m gonna be right back with Harley. _

He shut the door quietly behind him and walked briskly down the stairs, his pace shifting into an urgent jog. He called Harley. No response. He called Harley again. No response.  _ His phone is on silent. His phone died. He didn’t take his phone. He’s fine he’s fine he’s fine.  _

Peter stopped dead in his tracks. A Starkphone with a sparkly ombre magenta case.  _ No. It’s not… that’s not his… it’s… _

He clicked the home button and his stomach dropped. The selfie Abby, Peter, and Harley took at Halloween.  _ No. No no no no no nO NO.  _

And then he was hyperventilating as the world came crashing down as the brick walls of that alleyway pushed closer and closer.  _ No. No. No. No. _

He called Tony, his patience running thin as each ring sounded. “Pick up pick up pick up.”

“Hey, kid. Merry Christmas Eve. Everything al…”

“Harley’s gone.”   


“What?”

“He’s gone. Someone someone someone took him or something maybe not took probably took oh  _ God  _ someone took him and his phone his phone it was it was left in an alleyway and I, I just found it, it’s Harley’s phone, I know it is because there’s a picture of him on it and I I I don’t know what to do? What do I do? And it’s it’s my fault because I’m the reason he went out and now he’s, what do I do, we gotta find him, Mr. Stark, we gotta find him.”

“Slow down. So you’re saying that Harley was taken?”

“Why would he just leave his phone in an alleyway?”

“Okay. So his phone was in an alleyway. And you’re sure he didn’t drop it?” Tony asked.

“He has deep pockets, and he always keeps it in his left pocket, and it would never fall out.”

“Okay. Okay, I can… I’ll send some suits out to survey the area, see if we can get a reading.”

“Are you gonna…”

“Everything’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna find him.” He ended the call.

And now he was standing in an alleyway, alone, hyperventilating again.  _ Why does everything bad happen in alleyways?  _ And now he was in another alleyway. Ben. Harley. Ben. Harley. Harley Harley Harley Harley…

Abby. Abby is still at the apartment. And Harley is gone. And now he’s alone. With Abby.

He had to get back to the apartment. To be with Abby. 

Was he breathing? He didn’t know. All he knew was that his legs were moving and his brain was on fire, static filling his ears. 

And now he was in Abby’s room, taking the Spider-Man mask from her, slipping it over his head. “Karen? I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. Why can’t I breathe?”

“Peter, you seem to be having a panic attack and are currently hyperventilating. You need to steady your breaths.” Karen was saying words but he didn’t hear him. Harley’s gone and he can’t breathe. Harley’s gone and he can’t breathe. Harley’s gone and it’s his fault and he can’t breathe. He can’t breathe.  _ He can’t breathe. _

“Peter?”

_ Hecan’tbreathehecan’tbreathehecan’tbreathe. _

“I had a bad dream. Where’s Harley?”

_ Where’sHarleywhere’sHarleywhere’sHarley? _

_ Harley’sgoneHarley’sgoneHarley’sgone. _

“Are you okay?”

_ HarleyHarleyHarleyHarleyHarleyHa _

There was pressure on his side, small hands gripping the fabric of his sweaty t-shirt and petting his hair. This is nice.  _ This is nice. Thisisnicethisisnicethisisni _

“Abby I…”

“Don’t talk. You need to breathe,” she ordered.

He wanted to make a joke about how he was supposed to be an adult but he couldn’t. It hurt too much. 

It took him a few minutes, but he finally settled down, well, as much as he could. His chest felt like it was vibrating and his head was throbbing from the pressure of the tears that wouldn’t fall and his jaw ached from how hard he was clenching it. 

“What happened?” Abby asked softly.

“I… uh… how about we talk in the morning. I’m sure we’re both tired.”

“I don’t want to go back to sleep.”

“Well I’ll come lay with you, alright? And I’ll be there if you have another bad dream."

She hesitated. “Okay.”

Abby and Peter curled up in her too small bed, and Peter did everything he could to make her comfortable and safe. That’s all he could do. Protect Abby. Protect Abby.

As much as his brain was berating him to find Harley, his body was weak, and he found himself running out of energy to keep his eye op...

.-~*~-.

He woke up abruptly with a gasp. He was overwhelmed, his mind a dizzy blur. He was light, his body floating in the thin air. But most of all, he was hurting. He was hurting a lot. The night had hit him hard and he was catatonic as he stared at the wall, trying to process, trying to reason with himself that things were going to be alright. He wasn’t alright. This wasn’t alright. Nothing was alright.  _ HarleyHarleyHarley… _

His phone buzzed. It was still in his pocket. His phone and Harley’s.  _ Harley’s.  _

He answered, delicately pulling himself from the soft sheets that barricaded the cold apartment temperature from reaching him. “Hello?” 

“Hey, kid. How are you doing?”

“Uh, not great.”

“Right. Of course not. Well I… I’ve had the suits surveillancing wherever I can. I just wanted to… to check in.”

“So you haven’t found him,” Peter stated.

“No. We haven’t. Yet. But we will.”

“I have to get breakfast ready for Abby.” He caught sight of the Christmas tree. “Shit. It’s Christmas. It’s… it’s Christmas. It’s our first Christmas without… and now he’s not… I… what am I gonna tell her? How the hell am I gonna... “

“Peter.”

“I have to make breakfast. Thanks for checking in.” He hung up. 

Harley had gotten them the sweet breakfast sausage that you can cook in the microwave, and showed him how to make microwave bacon before, so Peter settled on a microwave breakfast and scrambled eggs. He couldn’t do the sunny side up as well as Harley, and scrambled eggs can have cheese in it, and he liked cheese. Maybe the cheese could make him feel better. 

No. It won’t.

He didn’t know why he was trying so hard to make the perfect breakfast. He knew the moment she came out and asked “where’s Harley” he’d have to tell her everything and then neither of them would have an appetite. But maybe, just maybe, the breakfast could mean something. 

It wouldn’t.

Telling Abby the news was hard. It was hard and it hurt and it was hard and it hurt. Abby took it stone-faced even though tears streamed down her cheeks. She hugged Peter hard, soaking his shirt, sobs as loud as shouts. Everything hurt. Everything hurt.

.-~*~-.

Being an orphan on Christmas sucks. Being an orphan on Christmas when your brother/the love of your adolescent life is kidnapped sucks more. They didn’t open the presents. They were just a cruel reminder of what was missing. What they were missing. What they were missing out on.

Everything was too happy. The red and green lights, the decorations, the couples in love kissing under mistletoe and holding hands as they strolled through the snowy streets. It was too reminiscent of what Peter was living just 24 hours before. 

He was in a frantic search, trying to follow whatever leads he could get, but there was nothing. Freshly fallen snow had covered any footprints that may have been left on the grimy alleyway ground. Karen and FRIDAY couldn’t detect his biometric watch or pick him up on any cameras. The search was feeling more futile by each second that passed.

Peter returned to the apartment, throwing his mask across his room. “Fuck!”

“Peter?” 

He softened, plastering on a neutral smile. “Hey, Abby. Sorry, I didn’t…”

“I’m scared.”

The wind was knocked out of his lungs. What was he supposed to say to that? That it’ll be okay? It won’t be okay. None of this was okay. “Why are you scared?”

“First it happened to you and me, and now it’s happening to Harley. What if I… what if they find me again?”

Peter kneeled to get to Abby’s level. “Whoever did this? This isn’t the same thing that happened to you. I don’t know if they… or if they… but I… I’m not gonna let them take you, and I’m gonna find  Harley as soon as I can. We are looking so hard for him right now and I know we are going to get him back. We are.”  _ We have to.  _ “C’mere.” He pulled her into a tight hug. “I know this is a stinky way to end our holiday season, so how about we do something while the legion scans the world?”

“Can we make up a language?”

Peter scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. “Huh?”

“Mama and I had a secret language. It was a simple language. When I squeezed her hand once it meant that everything was okay, when I squeezed it twice there was something wrong, and three times was how we told each other we loved each other. What if we… if something  _ were  _ to happen, can we have our own whole language so no one can hear what we’re saying?”

He smiled weakly. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”

.-~*~-.

The next day, Peter and Abby walked silently to Luigi’s Fix-It Shop, Peter gripping Abby’s hand firmly as if she was going to disappear if he let go. As much as he wished they could just stay home and process, he had to go into work. As they walked, the small girl kept glancing over her shoulder, eyes darting around the street.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”  _ Stupid question. Everything is wrong. _

“Has that car been following us?” Abby asked.

“I don’t think so? I would’ve noticed if it did.” He pointed to his head as if to say “Spidey-Sense.”

“Are you sure? Because I feel like that car has been on our trail for the last three blocks.”

“Abby. There’s no danger here. I don’t sense any,” he stated, trying to ground her into what was real.

“But I…”

“I know you’re scared. Believe me, I’m terrified of something happening to you, but you can’t let your life be consumed with the fear. It’s okay to be afraid, to be paranoid, but you… you can’t let it stop you from living your life. You have to remember what’s real, and I know the stuff that  _ is  _ real sucks a lot, but it’s what’s… real.” He sighed. “Shit, I’m not good with pep talks. I’m sorry. That was always Uncle Ben’s thing.” He froze. “I…”

“You don’t talk about him.”

“Yeah. I don’t,” he said, still surprised. He stopped in front of the small mechanic shop. “So, remember. You’re just gonna hang out with me in the back room while I tinker. You’ve got my phone and your books to keep you busy.”

“I’m not a toddler, Peter. I can handle a few hours doing my own thing.”

“I know you can I just…”  _ want everything to be perfect for you, “ _ worry.”

“Don’t worry. I’m fine.”

_ Are you? _ “Okay. I have to go check in with Luigi, but I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay.”

Peter entered the main store, a single customer conversing with Luigi at the main desk.

“Peter! So glad you’re here. This young lady’s coffee machine isn’t turning on. Think you can check out what’s wrong with it?”

“Of course.” 

_ It’s just a normal day at work. It’s just a normal day at work. _

.-~*~-.

The next few days were filled with distraction and denial. Neither Peter or Abby were addressing the traumatic reality that they were living. They spent their hours writing their secret code or watching movies or cooking or talking. So much talking. Lots and lots of talking. Just talk talk talking. Talk talk talk talk talk…

.-~*~-.

_ Right snap, left snap, clap, double snap, double snap. (What’s wrong?) _

Peter sighed.  _ Clap, clap, clap. (I miss him.) _

Abby nodded.  _ Right circle snap. (Me too.) Cross double snap, cross double snap, double snap, double snap. (Do you want a hug?) _

Peter smiled.  _ Right snap. (Yes.) _

.-~*~-.

“It’s quiet,” Abby stated sitting next to Peter on the fire escape.

“It’s because everyone is waiting for the big moment. Then they can be as loud as they want,” Peter replied.

“Are we gonna make a lot of noise?”

He nodded. “My Aunt May and I take pots and we bang ‘em together while we screech like banshees out here. Then we go to the roof to watch the fireworks.”

“That sounds fun.”

“It is.”

He looked down at his phone solemnly, awaiting the countdown.

“You’re sad.”

He looked up. “No I’m not.”

“Yeah you are. You’re sad. Is it because Harley isn’t here?”

He sighed sadly. “Yeah. It is. He would’ve liked to see the fireworks. And I… I just thought maybe this would be the first year I’d… the first time we’d…”

“Kiss?” she finished.

“Yeah. Kiss.” He laughed dryly. “I know that’s pretty yucky to think about. Me and your brother kissing but I… it’s tradition and I…” His throat felt like it was closing as he choked out the words, “I’d really like to kiss him again.”

Cheers erupted around them, but Peter couldn’t find the energy to cheer with them, instead, taking unlabored breaths, struggling to keep his calm around Abby.

Suddenly, he felt the soft, warm feeling of Abby’s lips on his cheek. “I know it’s not the same, but…” she took his hand in hers, “you deserve a New Years kiss.”

And there were the tears. There was that Harley in her again. It was almost like he was there with him again. The way her smile was a little lopsided and the way she squeezed his hand to bring him back to earth, he realized that there was nothing he wouldn’t do for Abby because she was Harley’s. His mark on her life was evident in everything she says and does. He loved her so much because he loved Harley.

“Thank you, Abby.” 

They sat there, listening to the crack of fireworks and pops of champagne bottles being opened next door until it dissipated into muffled chatter. 

Abby turned to him.  _ Cross double snap, cross double snap, double snap, double snap. _

Peter gave a weak  _ right snap _ .

She pulled him into a tight hug, nuzzling her head into the crook of his neck.

Peter’s phone rang, specifically the Mr. Stark ringtone. “Hello?” he answered, still stuffy nosed.

“Peter. You need to get to the tower right now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, we aren't trying to milk this story. We just have so many ideas and the story wrote itself into this.
> 
> If you want to chat, our Tumblrs are [official-impravidus](https://official-impravidus.tumblr.com/) and [StarryKitty013](https://starrykitty013.tumblr.com/)


	8. Decode

Getting to the tower took much longer than he wished it did. He couldn’t swing because he couldn’t leave Abby alone in their apartment complex, so instead they took a grueling subway ride and panicked jog to the tower. 

When they entered, they were quickly ushered to the common quarters. Peter, knowing whatever was coming wasn’t going to be easy, left Abby in the media room. As he went to join Tony, he was greeted by a stoic yet frazzled man muttering under his breath as he frantically ran simulations.

“Peter, you’re here,” he stated, almost too calmly.

“What… what happened?” Peter asked.

“They sent a ransom note. The kidnappers.”

“They what? What did they say?”

He pulled up a holograph. “I can’t give you a physical copy because we are still running tests for possible leftover DNA markers, but those are basically useless when there’s no DNA to compare them to.”

Peter scanned the words over. And then again. And then again. And each time, it made less and less sense. It read:

_“tony stark,_

_we have your protege. put ten million dollars into oscorp stocks and only then will we give you a location. this is but a speck of dust in the glass that those see half full._

_you have one week.”_

“Are you… are you going to give them the money?” Peter asked wearily.

“Of course I will. It’s basically pocket cash. What I’m trying to figure out is why they want me to put that money into my biggest competition instead of an offshore account for their own personal gain.”

“So you think someone at Oscorp is up to this?” Peter questioned.

“I think someone who favors Oscorp more than Stark Industries did it,” he clarified. “This could mean anything. Revenge for an injury from my past weapons that Oscorp technology saved their life with. Ex-employee whose “life I ruined” and got back on their feet due to Oscorp. The possibilities are endless outside of the simple “Oscorp is doing this,” and I can’t just point fingers at a multi-billion dollar conglomerate because I have a little hunch.”

“So that’s it? You give them ten million and then they just… they tell us where he is? And we’ll get him back?”

“See, that’s what I was thinking. But that’s too easy. Too simple. When I pay the ten million, they’re gonna realize how much Harley is worth. Or maybe they already know how much he is worth. They’re not just gonna leave him sitting on a chair in a random field for us to pick him up. There’s gonna be backup. There’s gonna be traps and ammunition. Or, he won’t be there at all. Kidnappings aren’t simple. They’re… I know when you got kidnapped, it was, but this, this is the real deal and they are out for blood. I just don’t know whose.”

Peter didn’t respond.

“I have to get back to work. You can stay in your room here and Happy will take you back to your apartment in the morning. I don’t… I don’t know why I called you.”

“Okay. I’ll just… I’ll go.” Peter’s lungs felt full. They felt like they were filled with rocks and there was no possible way he was going to get air into them because they’re filled rocks. His feet were rocks. The tears pooling in his eyes were rocks. The words were rocks, too heavy to process. He was just a rock.

“Did they find him?” Abby asked, eager and hopeful.

“We’re gonna find him,” Peter replied, words that he had been saying these last few days like a mantra. “We’re gonna be staying here tonight. It’s getting late. We should head to bed.” His speech was stale, nothing having real meaning. 

He checked his phone, his inbox filled with meaningless words.

**ned, nedd, & neddie: happy new years!**

**don’t call me shelly: It’s just New Year. When you say “New Year’s Eve,” it’s because it’s a possessive use of the ‘s.**

**ned, nedd, & neddie: yikes ok**

**don’t call me shelly: Happy New Year. May this year not be filled with nuclear war threats, declining air quality, and increased carbon emissions.**

“Peter?”

He looked up. “Huh?”

“I asked if you had something I could wear for the night.”

He pressed a palm to his forehead. “Right. There’s pajamas in the bottom drawer. Get ones with a drawstring. They’ll be big, but it’s better than nothing.”

“Thanks.” She looked to the teen solemnly. _Right snap, right snap, left snap, left snap. (Are you okay?)_

_Left snap. (No.)_

_Cross double snap, cross double snap, double snap, double snap._ She held her arms out.

_Left snap._

_Clap, double snap, clap. (I love you.)_

_Clap, double snap, clap. Right circle snap. (I love you too.)_

As Abby crawled into bed next to Peter, he felt himself relax as her breaths evened out. He just stared at the ceiling. _Where is Harley?_

CHRISTMAS EVE

Harley walked with a skip in his step, a lovestruck grin on his face. His hands were shoved in his jean pockets, and his cheeks were tinted pink from his flustered lovesick heart and the chilly breeze blowing by.

The city was singing, or maybe it was just him. He didn’t have a care in the world. Actually he did. He cared about Peter. Peter Peter Peter. Things were shaping up for Harley Keener. Things were…

Two unnaturally strong arms pulled him into an alley, one hand clamped tight over his mouth the other injecting his arm with a needle. His world faded away.

When he awoke, he was in a dimly lit concrete room. He was bound to the wall by chains on his wrists, and he he was lying on a stiff cot in the corner of this small empty room. The door was made of thick metal and seemed to have the most complex mix of keys, codes, and locks. Harley was… discombobulated. He was disoriented and confused and overwhelmed and most of all, fucking terrified.

He retracted as he heard the jingle of keys turning and the clicking and clattering of the locks being removed. What he had not been expecting was a woman in a pencil skirt and checkered blazer entering, a bedazzled notebook and pen with a pompom on the end in hand.

“Hello, Harley,” she greeted.

“U-uh, hello,” he responded wearily.

“It’s very nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“You… you have?” he asked, confused.

“Lots and lots. Heard how intelligent you are. Heard how inventive you are. Heard about your _connections_.” She scratched the dirt from under her nails, almost bored. “Also heard about your little sister, Abby. Heard you’re trying to get full guardianship. Heard that she almost got really hurt in Boston. Now wouldn’t it be a shame for something like that to happen again?”

“Don’t touch her,” Harley snapped, surprising himself and her with the outburst.

“No need to get feisty. Just stating the obvious. Because we don’t want anything to happen to her, right?

He glared at her. “You’re not gonna get away with this. You said it yourself. I have connections. They’re gonna find me.”

“No. They won’t. At least, not until we want them to. We’re somewhere they’ll never think to find you.”

“And where is that?” Harley pushed.

“Well, why would I tell you that? So, I came in here just to ask you some simple questions…”

“I’m not answering your questions.”

“They’re easy ones. Just get to know yous. How about number one? You’ve gotta eat while you’re here, and I just wanted to know if you have any dietary restrictions? Allergies? Diets? Religious restrictions?”

He hesitated. “I’m allergic to blueberries. And pitted fruits.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard. My men are going to bring you something to eat in twelve hours, but for now, get some rest. It’s late.” And with that, she was gone.

.-~*~-.

She hadn’t been lying when she said they would bring him food. Harley had been staring at the wall, muttering hopeful words, to himself. “They’re going to find me,” he told himself. “They’re probably out looking for me right now,” he tried to reason. “It’s only been a day. Tony probably has the whole legion out right now,” he muttered. “They’re coming. They’re gonna come. They’re coming. They’re gonna come.” 

The door made that clank and clatter before squeaking open, a man with ridiculously buff biceps came in, placing a tray in front of him.

Baked potato. Green beans. Mystery meat.

He reluctantly ate the plate, grateful to get food into his system. The door creaked open again, the woman from the night before entering.

“Hello, Harley.”

He stared blankly at her. “Hello.”

“You know, we thought it was so interesting to hear that Tony Stark had a personal protege. One that was so young in fact. We thought, that’s so strange. Whod’ve thought Iron Man would have his eyes out on finding a new predecessor. So we thought to ourselves, where did this Harley Keener come from? The answer? Nowhere. You came from nowhere. You were a normal kid in Rose Hill, Tennessee that moved to New York and got an internship with Tony Stark out of nowhere. No starting from the bottom. No building up your name to the top. Just getting to the top from nowhere. At least, that’s what we thought. Isn’t it so interesting that Tony Stark was in Rose Hill, Tennessee during the Mandarin fiasco? And isn’t it even more interesting that he has been graciously donating money to a certain Rose Hill elementary school, then middle school, then high school over the last few years? And _isn’t it interesting_ that those are the same schools you went to.”

“He’s a philanthropist,” Harley said nervously, not making eye contact with her.

“Yeah. Such a great guy. Such a great guy, in fact, that he had been sending lab equipment to a kid in Rose Hill, Tennessee for eight years. So, Harley. Want to tell us how you really met Tony Stark?”

“I’m not telling you anything.”

“Fine. Be that way. But when you start getting really hungry, and you’re craving some food, you might want to be open to tell us something.” She stood up. “These are simple questions, Harley. They’re not always gonna be this easy, so take them while you still can.” She set her notebook and pen on the edge of his cot. “Here’s something to keep you busy.”  
  


.-~*~-.

_“I don’t know how long it’s been since I last ate, but I’m starting to realize how often I do eat. I guess you take advantage of something when you’ve got it. Peter, I know you’re coming to get me. I know you’re gonna find me. Tony, I’m sorry, but I’m so hungry and I don’t want to break but I’m so hungry and I_

_I’m sorry, but I’m hungry and I need to tell her what she’s asking.”_   
  


.-~*~-.

Harley banged on the wall. “Hello?! Hello?! I’ll talk! Okay?! I’ll talk!”

It felt like an eternity before he heard the familiar twist and turning. “You lasted quite a while, Harley. Did you know that it has almost been three days since you last have drank or eaten anything? You must be feeling so famished.”

He weakly nodded.

“Well, lucky for you, we’ve got two baked potatoes this time to go with your green beans and meatloaf.” The muscly man came in with a tray. “But first, have some water.” She handed him the large bottle. “And tell me, how did you meet Tony Stark?”

He chugged in desperation. “We… he broke into my garage when I was ten. He needed to make repairs to his suit and stop the Mandarin.”

“And what did you have to do with that?” she asked.

“I made the repairs to his suit and showed him that he didn’t need his tech to be Tony Stark.” He couldn’t stop eyeing the food that’s smell wafted over to him.

“Very intelligent, even as a ten year old. Working on the Iron Man suit. That’s impressive and quite the honor. Is that what you do when you work with him now?”

“He gives me blueprints and I check them for discrepancies and build them.”

“Blueprints? For his new innovations?”

He shook his head. “New marks.”

“Marks?” she asked, intrigued.

“Suits.”

Satisfied, she nudged the man to give him his food. “We’ll be back soon.”

But she wasn’t back soon. The man came in and brought him water often, food more scarcely, and sometimes he would stare at him for prolonged periods of times before leaving. He hated that he was already becoming accustomed to the routine. He was feeling too safe. He had to keep reminding himself that “Peter and Tony are looking for me” and “Peter and Tony are coming,” but as the hours passed, he was feeling less and less confident.

.-~*~-.

Click. Clank. Click. Twist. Screech. Squeak. 

“Hello, Harley. Happy New Year’s Eve. I just wanted to ask you to draw something for me.”

He furrowed his brows in confusion. “Draw something? I’m not much of an artist.”

“We just want you to try your best and draw us something you remember from those blueprints. Any blueprints. Anything that you remember working on.”

He felt a little sick. “I… it’s not like I’ve memorized them…”

“Anything helps. And the more you help, the sooner you’ll get out, right?”

“What are you going to do with them?”

“You don’t have to worry about that.” She placed the large piece of paper on the ground next to his cot. “The sooner you get it done, the sooner you get food.”

He stared at the paper. He could easily bullshit his way through it, make fake designs, make designs that had major flaws, but even those would aid them. He couldn’t throw Tony under the bus. He began to design fake blueprints.

.-~*~-.

CLICK. CLANK. CLICK. TWIST. SCREECH. SLAM.

The woman was not happy. In fact, her face was red with rage. She held his blueprints, her grip becoming tighter and firmer the more she looked at his shocked and guilty face. She crumpled it into a ball and threw it hard against his face, the paper slicing his cheek.

“What the _fuck_ is this?” she demanded.

“I told you I didn’t remember much.”

“Ooh, you don’t remember much? Well you remembered enough to create something with a combustive trigger that set off in my room of engineers and killed four of them.”

“I… I what?”

“Don’t play dumb. We know you sabotaged the blueprints.”

“No! No, I would never…”

“Well you did. And now you’re going to pay.” She looked at the muscly man and gave him a firm nod. “We wanted to be cordial with you, Harley, but you’ve forced our hand.” She raised her hand. “Take him.”

She didn’t flinch as she heard his anguished screams ring through the facility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .........sorry?
> 
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	9. Keep Holdin' On

To put it simply, they were running late. Peter hadn’t set his new alarm to accommodate Abby’s early schedule and Abby was used to being awakened by Sharon, so neither had been prepared for their first day back to school.

Peter rushed to Abby’s room, shaking her (not very gently) awake, in a rushed panic. He thanked Abby’s past self for insisting that they lay out their first day of school outfits together, and shimmied on his jeans as he brushed his teeth. Grabbing two honeycrisps from the fruit bowl and doing a second long triple check, they ran to the subway.

With her small hand in his, he maneuvered his way through the crowd, praying that they would make it on time, and thankfully they made it a few minutes before the next round.

Abby heaved, out of breath. “We made it!”

Peter nodded, sighing deeply in relief. “Yes. We did.” As he smoothed his hair, he accidentally knocked his SDBud on the ground. And suddenly, it was like there were two anvils pressing against his temples, his head spinning from the cacophony of noise surrounding him. He winced in pain, and tried to focus on finding the basically invisible device.

“I’m excited for my first day at my new school! It’s so much bigger than my old school and their mascot is a dolphin which is so much cooler than a raven or a ram. That’s what my old ones were.”

“Uh-huh,” Peter said mindlessly, his head throbbing as he got on his hands and knees and desperately trying to feel around, hoping that it hadn’t been kicked across the room already.

“Harley’s middle school, well it was going to be my middle school before we had to move, but his middle school was a husky and I thought that was real cool because I like dogs.”

“Yeah, I hear you,” he responded, blinking back his blurred vision.

“I wish Harley were here for my first day at my new school. We always take a first day of school picture. Well I guess this wouldn’t be his first day of school but it’s my first day of school so we would still take a picture. I mean if he were here I mean.”

“Abby!” Peter snapped. “Can you please just be quiet for a minute?”

Her mouth shut quickly, her face dropping. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

His words dawned on him. He stuck a finger in his right ear and turned to her. “No, I’m sorry, Abby. I didn’t… I didn’t mean it like that. I just…”

“There’s too much noise. Right? There’s too much noise and your head hurts?”

He nodded. “Something like that.”

She grabbed her hand and placed something in his. “You dropped this. I think you were looking for it.”

A rush of guilt waved over him. “Thank you.” The subway approached. “How about we get going? When we’re outside the school, we’ll take a first day photo together.”

.-~*~-.

“He’s where?”

“He’s not really there. It’s just what Mr. Stark made up to get him out of school.”

“Okay, so tell me again so I can get this straight.”

Peter sighed, pained, but repeated himself for his expectant best friend. “We’re saying that he’s on a really important Stark Industries trip to build clean energy homes and plant trees in Iyezbeckestan to pay it forward. This is a real excursion, Harley just isn’t actually on it.”

“That’s a little yikes though, right? To say that he went to a third world country when he isn’t actually there?” Ned asked.

“It’s better than the whole school knowing that he’s kidnapped and being held for ransom because he’s the personal protege of Tony Stark,” Peter said bitterly.

“I guess you’re right.” He put his hand lightly on Peter’s shoulder. “How are you holding up? Last time we talked, you were pretty hysterical, and then you kinda went MIA.”

“I know, I’m sorry I just… it’s been so much with the search and taking care of Abby I just… I’m not… I’m not doing good. I feel like someone has taken my heart, ripped it out of my chest, sliced it into tiny pieces, and blended it into a heart smoothie all while I’m trying to keep it together and be a good parent for Abby who I’m sure is doing just as bad as me. She just… she doesn’t show it. I don’t know how to help someone who isn’t in immediate peril. Like when I’m on patrol, it’s a problem or situation, and then I alleviate the problem or situation. It’s just how it is. But with her it’s like… it’s so complicated, and it’s not like she’s going to be in constant distress, but I know there’s always going to be that underlying meaning whenever one of us talks about him. And like how are you supposed to not talk about him? He was her life and a big part of mine and we can’t just… ignore that fact that he existed. But then at the same time I can’t just ignore the fact that’s he’s just… out there. Somewhere.”

“I hear you, dude.”

The bell rang.

“C’mon,” Ned said. “We gotta get to class.”

.-~*~-.

“Abby, you’ve gotta eat your vegetables.”

“They don’t taste good.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I know I’m not as good of a cook as… but I… you need to eat your vegetables.”

Peter was looking to the small girl, almost pleadingly, who frowned at her canned corn and peas.

“Why can’t you get the bag kind? That doesn’t taste this metal-y,” she complained.

“I can next time, but today you’ve gotta eat this kind.”

“Did you know that salt, sugar, and preservatives are added during the canning process? That cancels out all the healthiness it might’ve had.”

“Abby. Please.”  _ Clap, clapclap, clap. (You have to do “this,” whatever “this” is, with no argument.) _

She looked to him and begrudgingly took a spoonful, raising her eyebrows in a “happy?” sort of motion. “Aren’t you gonna eat?” 

He shook his head. “I’m not hungry.”

“You look hungry. You haven’t eaten breakfast or dinner in three days.”

“I… have lunch,” he said, not very convincingly.

“You gotta eat too, you know. We both gotta take care of ourselves.”

He gave a lopsided smile. “Yeah. I suppose you’re right.”

.-~*~-.

It had been almost a week since Spider-Man went MIA from the streets, and New York was getting antsy. Peter had been feeling the itch to get out there again and again, but he knew he could never leave Abby, and he knew that he had made the oath to protect her no matter what, and that meant putting down the suit. 

However, that didn’t stop him from formulating his next plan of attack. Stemming off of the coding of Karen, he implanted cameras throughout the apartment, installing hostile bots to attack if any unfamiliar people were to break and enter in. Peter got a notification for any movement in the apartment through Karen, even if it’s just Abby getting a nightly water. He could equip the bots with the click of a button, and they not only would be offensive but also defend Abby. 

So, with that plan, he was feeling almost content enough to go back on patrols. 

But not yet.

Maybe his weariness was less of being underprepared and more of his fear of getting back into the field. If something were to happen to him out there, who would be there for Abby? He knew that was a risk, and he didn’t know if he could do that to Harley.

But, life always finds a way to pull you back in.

It was a gangster war, Wade said. He and Matt were gonna hit. He knew this was their way of trying to distract him, get him back in the game. No one patrolled midday except Spidey and Matt was a certified vampire (also he had a day job). Spider-Man needed to get back out there.

Hesitantly, he equipped the bots and put on the suit for the first time in what felt like forever.

It was a simple recon: smash in and while Matt and Wade took care of the action on the ground, take out the guns midair, then blow the warehouse to high hell ‘cause that’s how these things always ended. The gunshots blared and blasted, that and the sounds of shattered glass reverberating in his eardrums. 

“Spidey, doing good up there?” Deadpool sang. Peter grunted in response. It’s only been a few weeks. He shouldn’t be this out of it. He kicked another guy in the gut, sending him flying with a bit too much force. Matt only ‘looked’ at him but didn’t say anything. He punched a man into two more knocking them down. 

“Wanna chill kid? It’s like only 12:30. Save the torture for 2.” Matt finally said to him and Peter bit back a growl. See this is what he was afraid of. He goes out and then lose control but…

This felt  _ good. _

Eventually they finished tying everyone up and put the guns in the center of the warehouse before proceeding to blow the place in fiery arson.

Therapeutic indeed.

.-~*~-.

Mr. Stark didn’t know that he knew. Peter knew that when they were given a location, there was nothing but another note depicting the next step in their game. That Harley was still somewhere they didn’t know and they were left with another demand and a month deadline, and now the stakes were raised. Now they demanded that he leaked one of his projects and framed it as a mistake, potentially ruining years of work and losing the company millions.

He wasn’t supposed to know, but he knew. And he knew that Mr. Stark. Couldn’t do it. So they keep looking. They keep looking for Harley.

.-~*~-.

He wouldn’t say that he was happy. It was more like he was ignoring the problem. Yeah. That’s it. He was in denial.

He knew it wasn’t healthy, being in denial, but it was so much easier focusing on helping Abby and being Abby’s guardian and being Spider-Man than it was to be him and to focus on his feelings.

What feelings? He wasn’t feeling anything. He was fine.

He was fine.

He was…

Abby! He’s gonna make Abby a healthy dinner.

He wished Harley was here to cook it with him.

No! He doesn’t want Harley here because he… he… he needs to learn how to cook. And that’s important. Cooking dinner for Abby. Cooking dinner for Abby.

Abby who looks so much like Harley. Who reminds me him everyday of Harley. Whose smile and eyes and laugh and dialect just is a constant dagger dug into his gut to remind him of what he’s missing.

No! Abby is great and she’s hungry and she needs dinner so he’s going to make dinner.

Abby is great and he’s making dinner.

Abby is great and he’s making dinner.

Abby. Great. Make. Dinner.

.-~*~-.

“I need four thousand dollars.”

Tony looked up from his workstation, setting down his wrench. “What?”

“I mean I… it’s for the case. Since I’m filing for guardianship, I require a psychological evaluation, and those cost four thousand dollars, and I  _ really  _ don’t have that kind of money, so I just… I’ll pay you back one day I just, right now I really need to because in case Harley doesn’t… or if it’s a while, I need to… I just…”

“Of course. Peter, you know that I will always support you financially. I mean, God, I have six hundred thousand dollars in an account waiting for you in case you want to go and get three pHds. Just four thousand dollars for something like this? It’s gonna always be yes.”

He closed his eyes, letting the words sink in. “Thank you, Mr. Stark. Really. You don’t know what this means to me.”

“Don’t worry about it, kid. Now, pass me the screwdriver.” 

.-~*~-.

“So, Peter, I’m just going to ask some simple questions about your life. Feel free to take as much time as you need. I just need an honest and earnest response.”

Peter nodded anxiously. “Okay.”

“So, tell me about your parents.”

“Oh, they’re dead,” Peter said simply.

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“But it’s fine!” He added quickly “I mean I’m fine. Now. Not then. I was a mess. They died when I was really young so I mean it was understandable but like hardly bothers me now. Not to say that it doesn’t bother me in general. I mean they were my parents and they were good to me and of course losing anyone’s parents to a plane crash when their six years old is traumatic, but I mean it’s old trauma to me, right now, so I’m over it. Not over it, but like done coping. Healed.” He cleared his throat awkwardly. 

“Yeah.” she said unsurly. “Well, then tell me about your life after that. Your childhood.”

“Well, I moved in with my Uncle Ben and Aunt May and they’re, they were great. Amazing parents, even if they didn’t think so which is dumb ‘cause they raised me amazing. They were caring and they supported me in all of my academic and extracurricular endeavors, and they welcomed me into their lives even though they never planned to have kids. They loved me and I loved them.”

“You said, loved. Past tense. Are they deceased as well?”

“Oh, yeah. My uncle got shot by a mugger when I was thirteen and my aunt died in a car crash this summer.”

Her eyes widened. “My condolences.”

“Oh, but I mean, it’s okay. I mean it’s not okay, but I mean, my uncle’s death really shaped my life because it taught me the fragility of life and the importance to cherish it. And I mean my aunt’s death was very recent but I’ve really made a lot of progress to acceptance and coping.”

“I see.” She looked down at her paper. “Tell me about your education.

“Well, I’m in my senior year of high school right now, and I’m actually the top of my class. I have been for the last couple years. I go to Midtown Tech.”

“That’s a very prestigious school. I presume that studying takes up a lot of your time?”

He shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. I actually have a lot of free time because I retain information very easily.”

“Were you ever held back a grade or promoted a grade?”

“I was given the opportunity to skip grades, but I wanted to have a normal high school experience. Be with my peers.”

She nodded. “Did you ever have any detentions, suspensions, or expulsions?”

“I’ve gotten detention only once because I was trying to leave early for a work excursion, but I didn’t have a pass.”

“So you were skipping class?” she asked monotonously.

“I mean I wasn’t… I mean technically… uh, yeah. I guess.”

“But it was just that once?” 

“Yeah! Just that once. I didn’t ever try to do that again.”

She nodded again. “Alright.” She wrote some things down. “Let’s talk about your counseling history. Have you been to therapy?”

“Oh yeah, lots. I mean, not like lots, like not because I’m like crazy or anything, I’ve just had a lot of loss in my life. And I mean I didn’t go a lot because we couldn’t really afford therapy, but I mean, I go to therapy now. I mean, therapy is very good for you, therapeutic and all that, lots of mindfulness and growth and healing and uh all of that.”

“Are you currently on any medication?”

“No, I’m not. I…”  _ my body burns through medication.  _ “I’m not.”

“You mention taking therapy. Do you have a history with mental illness?”

He froze. “I-I, well it’s, it’s complicated. I mean I don’t… I mean I… well I… I have anxiety issues. And some PTSD from… from what I’ve told you. But I, I mean I wouldn’t say I’m, I’m not mentally unstable, and I mean like I’m not like super depressed or anything, quite the opposite, I don’t, I’m not, I’m just anxious a lot. And can get a little panicked when I’m triggered.”

“So no thoughts of harming yourself?”

He paused for a little too long. “No.”

“Are you sure?” she pushed.

“I never… I never hurt myself. Not me. I don’t like cut myself or anything.”

“There are many forms of self harm. It’s not just cutting.”

“I don’t self harm!” he snapped. “I-I… I mean I… it’s complicated.”

“Then uncomplicate it for me. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“I just…”  _ how do I say this?  _ “I just am accident prone and I get hurt a lot doing what I do.”

“And what is it you do?”

“I… I work with tools! And I’m very athletic and do a lot of contact… sports! But I don’t get hurt because I want to hurt myself, but because it’s part of what I do.”

She nodded, not quite satisfied with his answer. 

“Tell me about your relationship history, if any.”

“Well uh I had this thing with this girl named Liz sophomore year, but her dad turned out to be a felon and she moved so uh that didn’t go anywhere. But me and Harley, you know, Abby’s brother, we’re… we’re together.”

“How long have you been together?”

Peter, knowing he’d have to embellish the story, responded, “it’s been an unspoken thing for a while but officially, a couple months.”

“A couple months. That’s quite a short period of time for a commitment like this. Are you certain that you aren’t being too hasty?”

“I’m sure,” Peter said, a little too quickly. “Abby is a blessing in my life and I would do anything to protect her. She… she’s just a big bright light. A ball of joy and energy that picks me up no matter how I feel. She’s strong and intelligent and mature beyond her age and most of all, just her. She is kind and generous and honest and puts others before herself, even when it’s not the right thing to do. She is selfless and brave and she inspires me to be better every day I’m with her.”

She smiled, and wrote in her book. “Let’s talk about your chemical history. Have you partaken in any alcohol or drug consumption?”

“Oh, no. None at all.” A brief memory of the disgusting liquor that he tried at Harley’s party flickered in his mind, but he dismissed it. “The only ‘drugs’ I’ve ever partaken in are Advils when I have a headache.”

“And you wouldn’t mind taking a drug test to prove your sobriety?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t mind at all.”

She nodded again. “What is that status on your current employment?”

“I work at Luigi’s Fix-It Shop and I also have a paid internship at Stark Industries.”

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “How long have you had these jobs?”

“Well I started my job at Luigi’s this summer, but I’ve had the internship since I was in sophomore year.”

“That’s very impressive. A young age for such a prestigious job.”

“It was part of the September Foundation. He funds my project and I do lab work and check ins throughout the month.”

“Is that your only job experience?” she asked.

“Well, I’m pretty young, and it’s been a long term ordeal, so…” he fiddled with his fingers uncomfortably.

“Tell me about your medical history. Surgeries? Major medical conditions?”  
“When I was younger, I had severe asthma, but I outgrew it. And I had… have astigmatism in both of my eyes.” He motioned to his glasses. “Surgeries? When I was seven, I had to get my appendix out. And I mean, I’ve…” _well I’ve had a lot of surgeries due to my vigilantism,_ “well I think that’s the only major surgery I’ve had.”

“Is there anything else you’d like to talk about before we finish?” 

“Finish? Is that… you’re not gonna ask more questions?”

“I think I’ve gotten the information I need.” 

“Oh. Then uh okay. I don’t think I have anything I need to tell you.”

“Well, I don’t have any more questions for you. Thank you for your time, Mr. Parker.”

“No, thank you.”

.-~*~-.

His grades weren’t slipping. That’s not the problem. The problem is that sometimes he would go to school and then he’s suddenly perched atop a building or swinging midair and he doesn’t remember getting there. One moment he’s pouring a bowl of cereal for Abby and the next he’s tucking her into bed. He’s losing time and he thinks maybe it’s because his brain is trying to block out the world while it tries to process. But the lost time was almost… it was almost dangerous. He doesn’t remember his days. He doesn’t remember conversations and precious moments with Abby and sometimes his name.

Sometimes he forgot Harley was gone and he’d come home and expect to see him sitting at the desk or lying on the couch with a book, but instead he got a rude awakening and that momentary relief was gone. Sometimes he forgot who Harley was.

Was it better not to remember? He didn’t know. 

He had felt this before. With Ben and then with May. The way his body went onto autopilot and played the character of Peter Parker while he wallowed inside his brain. It was like he wasn’t enough. That the real Peter wouldn’t be good to be out, so he created something else. The person everyone needed. The person that protected the real Peter Parker while he took his time.

.-~*~-.

It was a long patrol. Everything felt long nowadays. Days dragged on, the world turning so slowly, and yet he wasn’t moving with it. Every second that passed without Harley pulled behind him like an anchor tied to his ankle. He didn’t enjoy patrol anymore. It was escape. It was momentary relief. But it wasn’t… it wasn’t satisfactory. He didn’t have that pride in helping the frail old ladies take their late night groceries to their apartments. He didn’t feel that warmth from the gratitude from those he helped. Nothing was fulfilling. He felt nothing.

He stared at his ceiling.

Nothing.

He chomped at the inside of his mouth.

Nothing.

He bit his nails to stubs.

Nothing.

And the tears that didn’t dare fall down his cheeks?

Nothing.

He tried to focus on something, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t focus his thoughts because he didn’t have any. Just the rumbling static of too much in his head. It was like those videos on YouTube that were like “Every Song From Hamilton Playing At The Same Time” or “Every YIAY Video Played At Once.” He felt the soft vibration in his throat as a small chuckle rang from his lips. Was he feeling again?

…

No.

Still nothing.

How is that possible? To laugh and still feel nothing? He didn’t know. 

_ I should feel something. I should feel sad. I should feel mad. I should feel something. But I… I feel nothing. _

When it came to Peter, there was never nothing. There was always too much. Too much sound. Too much input. He was always too much. Too cheery. Too much of a blabbermouth. But now? There was nothing.

Nothing nothing nothing.

_ Nothing nothing nothing. _

“Peter?”

He sat up, looking to the door. “Hey, Abby. What’s wrong?”

“Couldn’t sleep. Can I come sleep in bed with you?”

And though he couldn’t feel, he needed to pretend, and pretend good, because she needed him. “C’mere.” He scooted to the edge of his bed and patted the mattress beside him.

Abby crawled into his navy sheets and gripped to Peter like her life depended on it. The pressure didn’t bother Peter, or the fact that her little fingernails dug into his shoulder. He didn’t… he felt...

“What’s wrong?” he whispered softly.

“Just thinkin’ too much. Miss him too much.”

“Yeah.”  _ Clap, clap, clap. Right circle snap. (I miss him too.) _

“Can you tell me story? Harley used to tell me stories when I couldn’t sleep.”

“Do you want a real one or a made up one?” he asked.

“Whatever your best story is.”

“Well, there was once a family in London called the Darlings. There was John and Michael and Wendy and they had a dog called Nana.”

“That’s a stupid name for a dog,” Abby stated quietly.

“Well that’s what its name was.” He ran his fingers through her hair tenderly. “It was a normal night for Darling family. Their parents were going out, so their Aunt Agatha was coming to watch them.” Peter continue to spout out as many details he could remember from the story, making sure to mention the marvelous yet mischievous mermaids and plotting pirates, earning a tired giggle from Abby, until her breaths had evened out. 

He didn’t stop combing his fingers through her hair, afraid that she would wake up if he stopped. It could’ve been minutes or hours, but with her warm breath blowing against his chest, he began to feel his eyes droop.

He carefully carried her to her room and returned to his bed. 

He stared at his ceiling.

He felt… something.

.-~*~-.

Peter was overwhelmed. His ears were ringing and his hands were clammy and shaky and his jaw was clenched tight and strained as he struggled to swallow. His mind was a big fog and he didn’t remember waking up that morning and he had to sit through hours of classes teaching content he already knew. He was irritated and his fists were balled tight and he…

“Peter.”

He flinched as his best friend’s hand made contact with shoulder. “Ned.”

“Hey dude.” He looked to his hands nervously. “I know you needed some space but we’re… we’re really worried about you. I know you’re really adamant about holding everything together while you’re looking for him but we… we’re here for you. And we’re gonna support you no matter what happens.”

MJ silently nodded behind him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Peter spat back.

“W-what do you mean?”

“No matter what happens? The only thing that’s gonna happen is us finding him.”

“We… we know that but just… we just meant…” Ned stammered.

“Peter, there’s no need to be a dick right now. We came here because we care about you, but we didn’t have to,” MJ said.

“Well if it’s such a burden on you to make that effort, don’t bother. I don’t need it,” Peter responded bitterly.

“Peter. Dude. This isn’t you,” Ned said, hurt.

“Well what am I supposed to be, Ned? What do you expect from me? More of my sunshine shit? Well I’m not feeling that great right now so I’m sorry that I can’t be the Peter that you oh so desperately miss and wish I was.” Peter’s voice was raised, an edge that Ned had never heard him use.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but if this is how you’re gonna be, then we’re not gonna put the effort in,” Ned said, firm to mask his sadness.

“Fine! I don’t need you,” Peter said.

Ned bit his tongue and MJ guided him away, turning back around to glare at Peter.

“It’s for the best,” Peter mumbled to himself. “It’s for the best.”

.-~*~-.

“Pete—”

“No names.” Peter says through gritted teeth.

Taken aback by how Not-Peter that sounded, Tony stopped abruptly. “Okay, fair enough. But Spider-Man, we need to talk.”

“About?”

“You recent… behavior. It’s unusual.”

“Yeah?” Spiderman asked. “How so?”

“You’re becoming more violent. Unnecessarily violent.”

And he knew he was. It had been two weeks since he got back out in the field and it was so different than before. The release of being hurt had disappeared, replaced with his personal vendetta. One that had a different kind of rush. “And what if I told you that this is the way I operate? That this is the way it’s always been because criminals  _ don’t hold back _ . Neither should I or anyone else trying to go against them.” 

“Okay, that’s not the Spider-Man I know.” 

“Than maybe you don’t know him as well as you thought,” he said, voice laced with venom.

“The Spider-Man I know is kind and makes sure everyone is as uninjured as possible. He looks out for everyone, including the criminals.”

“Well that sounds ideal,” he said with a rolled eye.

“Ideal? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means unrealistic. Go home Mr. Stark. You shouldn’t be out here.”

“That’s my line kid,” he said, stepping towards Peter.

“How am I supposed to, to have sympathy for these people who are out here ruining lives when I can just stop them? It’s just that simple. I stop them and then nothing bad happens.”

“You know that’s not how it works. Peter, you’re not God. You can’t just pass judgement. What you do is leave it to the police who can put them in their place.”

“Well the police don’t do anything!” he snapped. “They… they’re always too late. When I web up people, I’m leaving it up to the police, but when I’m not there to give them that head start, they can’t… they don’t… people get hurt. The police they’ve got so much on their plates that they don’t have time for the little things. The things they deem Spider-Man’s terrain. The stuff that’s not as important as the big stuff. The guys assaulting girls behind bars and the dads beating their kids behind closed doors and the muggers that shoot Uncles in alleyways and the teens that go missing that no one can fi…” His voice cut out. “The police don’t do anything because they can’t and I can’t… I can’t let that happen anymore. I can’t let anything bad happen to anyone again because it hurts too much and it’s easier to not let anyone else hurt instead of…” He felt dizzy. “I can’t let anything bad happen anymore. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t let anyone feel like me ever again.”

“Peter…”

“Don’t. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear the “we’re gonna find him” and the “it’s gonna be okay” because nothing is okay. Nothing is okay right now and I’m sick of everyone telling me about what it’s going to be when we find him because I want to… I want to just find him now. I miss him so much and I can’t, I can’t do this, Mr. Stark. What if they’ve… what if he’s… I can’t do this. I can’t do this without him. I’ve got Abby now and she’s so strong but I know that no one can be that strong when… and I know I’m not and I just… I miss him so much. I can’t… and I wasted all that time being mad when I could’ve… maybe I would’ve been more vigilant and stopped him but I… I didn’t and he’s gone and we can’t find him and I…” he crumpled to the ground, Tony rushing to go to him. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t do this.”

Tony rubbed circles in his back awkwardly. “I’m here, kid. I’m here.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. I’ve been reckless. It’s easier to let it out on these bad guys than it is to… and I went too far. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey hey hey. It’s… it’s not okay, but I forgive you. You’re going through a lot.”

“It’s been three weeks and I can’t imagine what… I don’t even want to think about what… he’s just… he doesn’t deserve this. He never would. He made mistakes and, God, some days I wished that something bad would just get to him but I never wanted… I would never wish this… and I feel so guilty because you should never wish that upon someone but I was just so so mad and now he’s…” He sobbed into Tony’s shoulder.

“I’m here. I’m here,” he whispered.

“I love him, Mr. Stark. And I didn’t get to tell him.”

He paused. “I’m here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We planned to write a separate one-shot to get an even closer look at Peter and Abby's relationship during this time. It would include some more fluffier elements. If you're interested in seeing that, please let us know, and we'll make sure to get to it!
> 
> (Also, I'm not sure if this type of guardianship would require a psych evaluation, but that's what I inferred in my research)
> 
> If you want to chat, our Tumblrs are [official-impravidus](official-impravidus.tumblr.com) and [StarryKitty013](starrykitty013.tumblr.com)
> 
> If you want to join a Parkner Discord, click [here!](https://discord.gg/vztSVpg)


	10. Make Up Your Mind/Catch Me I'm Falling

“Thanks for coming over, guys. I-I, I messed up. I messed up big time and I really owe it to you.”

“You  _ were  _ an asshole,” MJ stated.

“MJ!” Ned scolded.

“What? He knows it. We know it.”

“Which means we didn’t have to say it,” Ned whispered through gritted teeth.

“I… I was out of line,” Peter admitted. “I was just, I was so angry and I was so afraid that if I let you guys in then maybe you’d…” he couldn’t finish.

“Peter, you don’t cause bad things to happen,” Ned said.

“But don’t I? First my parents and then Ben and then May and then Abby and now Harley it’s like, it’s like whenever I get close with someone, something horrible happens. And I’ve just been thinking like if I don’t let anyone get close to me, then nothing bad will happen.”

“I’ve known you for years and nothing bad has ever happened to me.”

“The elevator at DC?”

“You saved me!”

“I shouldn’t have had to!”

“Peter,” MJ interrupted. “You’re being irrational.”

“You’re right. I am."

"But, also, you're not the only one to blame here," MJ said. "We've been assholes too. You've been going through shit and we gave up on you too soon. We should've stuck around. Bothered you until you opened up. You needed us and we left. So, we're sorry."

"Yeah, dude. We're really sorry," Ned added. "You deserve better, especially after everything that you've gone through."  


"Well, I should’ve come to you guys sooner. I just… I had to find the right time. Abby is at her new friend’s birthday slumber party and I just… I needed to talk to you guys without her here,” Peter admitted. "But I... I accept your apology. And I really appreciate that."

“Well it’s better late than never,” MJ said. She wandered around the apartment, scanning the clutter. “ _ Story of Warden El _ ? When did you read this?”

“I didn’t. I think it’s… it’s Harley’s,” Peter said, choking up on the mention of Harley.

“Right. Sorry.” Realizing she needed to change the subject, she picked up the book. “It was a good read, I guess. It was about enlightenment and freeing yourself from the subconscious mind. Not really the best page turner but that’s to be expected from a no name like Olga Holland.”

“Oglaholland?” Ned asked.

“No, Olga Holland,” MJ responded.

Peter furrowed his brows in confusion. “Wait, who’s Oglaholland?”

“Not who. What. It’s this crazy abandoned underground Iyezbeckastanian asylum from like the 1600s.”

“I know everything about that place,” MJ said. “I’ve read all about it. They shut it down because their torture weapons were too inhumane even for their time period.”

“We haven’t looked there,” Peter mumbled under his breath. “Where is it?” he asked at full voice.

“It’s in the middle of the Arctic Ocean off the coast of Iyezbeckestan,” MJ responded.

“He’s there. He has to be there. We haven’t looked there,” Peter rambled.

“What are you talking about?” Ned questioned.

“Harley! We haven’t looked there. He must… he’s got to… he has to be there.”

“Peter, when is the last time you slept?” Ned asked, now concerned.

Peter went to grab his phone. “I have to… I have to tell Mr. Stark. We have to go now. We have to look there.”

“You need to get some sleep, dude. We can go…”

“No!" he snapped. “I have to go. Now.”

“Peter,” MJ said firmly. “We know you miss him, but you can’t just go to the middle of nowhere on a hunch…”

“It’s not just a hunch. I  _ know  _ he’s there,” Peter insisted, throwing off his shirt.

“You’re freaking us out a little, dude. You know we’re here for you but you’re…”

“No, if you were here for me you’d be supporting me right now. He’s there and I know it. I have to go.” He equipped his suit and stormed out of the apartment, leaving the window open behind him.

Peter was on a rampage as he swung to the tower. His mission was clear, and he didn’t have time to waste. He ran over the words in his head of what he would say, the lines that he’d have to perform to make Mr. Stark listen, but his improvisation skills were never his strongest suit.

Before he knew it, he had arrived at the tower and was climbing to his usual entrance, a cold sweat soaking forehead. He rushed to Tony’s lab who was hunched over a magenta metal.

“Mr. Stark. I think I know where he is.”

Tony dropped his tools and looked up. “You what?”

“We we we haven’t looked in Iyezebeckestan.”

“No, we have.”

“No, we haven’t,” Peter pushed. “Because we said that’s where he’s supposed to be but we never actually went there.”

“So, what? You think he’s in a third world country, being held hostage by the locals?”

“No,” Peter said firmly. “I think he’s in Oglaholland.”

“Oglaholland is buried underwater and has been for centuries.”

“Which is more the reason why he’d be there! No one would look there.”

“Which is why we aren’t looking there.”

“Mr. Stark, I know he’s there,” Peter insisted. “I just, I have this feeling and you know how I am with my feelings and I and I and I just I just…”

“No!” Tony shouted. He took a breath. “The answer is no, Peter. We can’t just drop everything and swim to buttfuck nowhere because you get a little tingly feeling that he’s there.”

“You can’t just rule it out. Can’t you can’t you can’t you send a suit or something?”

“I’ve had suits scanning the entire world, and the UN is pretty pissed at me for it. Said I was causing mass hysteria and I’m not allowed to send any more.”

“So, what? We’re just gonna give up?”

“Peter. I said no. Drop it.”

Peter clenched his fists and left the room, slamming the door behind him. “I’ve gotta I’ve gotta I’ve gotta do something. I have to find him. I have to find him.” He rushed to his personal lab and began running schematics.

“FRIDAY, give me the blueprints to Iron Man suits, Mark L to present.”

_ “Why do you need these?” _ FRIDAY asked.

“I’m just upgrading my suit and need some inspiration.”

_ “Would you like me to direct the boss to your lab to assist?” _

“No! No. I don’t need him.”

“ _ As you wish _ .”

He scrolled through the holograms frantically. “Repulsors, repulsors, repulsors. How do you work? How can I implement you?”

Like a mad scientist, Peter’s fingers typed rapidly, equations and commands flying through the system as he rapidly reinvented his suit. He didn’t know how much time had passed but it was too much. Too much time. Too long. Too long had Harley been gone. Too long had he almost lost hope. Too long did it take for him to find him. But he’s gonna get him. He’s gonna get him.

And then he was flying. He was in the air in a way he had never been before. There wasn’t the reliable safety of his webs to catch him. There was nothing connecting him to his destination, just air propelling him. 

With Karen as his GPS, and his mind screaming static, he was off. He programmed the repulsors to move without him, a planned route. Though he couldn’t imagine falling asleep when he was going to find Harley, he found his body tired and crashing after the adrenaline high, drifting away as his suit took him to the Arctic Ocean.

.-~*~-.

The freezing temperatures of being plunged into the Arctic Ocean would shock anyone awake, and luckily, while wearing the Iron Spider suit, he was impervious to water. 

He jolted out of his slumber, hyper-aware of his current situation, the realization that he was extremely under-prepared dawning on him. In this moment, he was the kid on Homecoming night, praying that Mr. Stark would save him. But he wasn’t. He didn’t believe him and he wasn’t coming.

Peter caught sight of the tunnel leading to the entrance, the draining water pulling him in. 

Being underprepared seemed to matter less and less as he got closer to the entrance, his adrenaline pumping and making him realize even with a plan he’d do things more on instinct. 

500 feet. 400 feet. 300 feet. Guns started firing; he felt the vibrations in his hastily thrown together armor. 200 feet. He shot out waterproof webs and shot himself to the platform. 

He didn’t have time for a one liner, he’s gotta get him. 

He didn’t have time to play nice, he’s gotta get him.

He didn’t have time to check if they were okay, he’s gotta get them.

Keep moving, keep fighting, keep going. He’s waiting for him.

Next corridor, next room, he’s not in this one so it doesn’t matter. Next sublevel, next stairwell. Where is he?

Examination room. Camera room. Security room.  _ Basement _ .

He burst into the grey concrete room with a flickering light bulb that illuminated Harley’s ghastly form. His face was cut up and his clothes were all torn up and bloody. He looked skinnier. Paler. 

But what really got him were the eyes. Those once cheerful, mischievous blue eyes. The eyes that held so much love for his sister and laughter for his friends. They were now looking up at him in a dull and lifeless grey. Devoid of hope. The glaze that came with seeing too much. The glaze Peter had known so well.

“You… came...?”

Peter almost broke at the hoarse whisper. Yeah he came but...

He was too late. Too late to stop whatever he had gone through. Too late after spending weeks of mindless nonsense, trying to cope with a world without him when he was still out there. Too late to give him back the time he missed.

“I missed you,” Harley croaked out, a grateful smile on his face.

How could he look at him like that when he failed him? Failed him for so long? For not figuring it out. For not finding him. 

He disarmed his mask. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Harley asked, so genuine and sweet. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

“I’m too late. I’m so late,” Peter said, a sob ripping through his throat. “But you’re alive. You’re here.”

“And you’re here,” Harley parroted. “I missed you.”

“I missed you. I missed you so damn much and I… I never stopped missing you and I… I love you. I love you so so so much and I know it’s probably too late to say it but I love you. I love you and I have loved you and if you let me, I won’t stop loving you.”

With all the strength Harley could muster, he pulled Peter down by the neck and gently kissed him. His lip was busted and cracked beyond repair, but it was him. It was Harley. Peter savored in the moment, the feeling of Harley in his arms. God, he was so thin. Too thin. 

Harley held onto Peter like his life depended on it. It did. His life depended on it. He wasn’t sure if it was real or just another one of his mind’s tricks, and if it was a trick, then it was a very kind one, and if it wasn’t, then he could let go and be happy.

“I love you,” Harley said gently.

“I love you, too. I love you. _ I love you. _ ” He looked at the chain on Harley’s wrists, and his stomach lurched, anger bubbling. He took it in his hands and crushed it, grabbing the band that was trapping his hand, and pulling it into two pieces. 

Harley unthinkingly shuddered, retracting back, associating the lack of weight on his arm to being taken for this daily dose of... He grabbed Peter and wrapped his arms around his waist, clutching to his side. “Please tell me we’re going home.”

“We’re gonna go home. We just gotta...” Oh. He didn’t think this far. Harley couldn’t fly hours without a suit. He would freeze. And he couldn’t even leave this hellhole without drowning on the way up to the surface. What was he going to do?

As if on cue, a familiar clunk came from behind. 

“You’re okay,” Tony said, misty eyed.

“Hey, old man. Took you long enough,” Harley attempted to joke.

Tony retracted the suit and ran to Harley, hugging him. “I’m sorry it took us so long.”

“Please. I just want to get home,” Harley replied, almost pleading.

“Well I brought something for you.” He secured a watch over his bony wrist. “Press your thumb to the face.”

Harley did so, his hands shaky. Suddenly, a magenta suit flew into the room, opening. “Is this…”

“What I’ve been making you work on for the last few months? Yes. I was planning to give it to you on Christmas but I… I wish I had given it to you sooner.”

“Thank you, Tony.”

“You made it,” Tony said. “This is how we are gonna get home. If you go in, it’ll start your route.”

Harley nodded and limped into the suit. “Smells weird.”

“New suit smell,” Tony said, trying to keep an upbeat tone.

“Will I… can I talk to you guys when I’m in here?”

“Yes. There are comms in there,” Tony affirmed.

“Okay. I guess I’ll…” The suit closed around him and flew out of the room, Harley letting out a yelp of surprise.

And then Tony and Peter were alone.

“Peter…”

“Look, Mr. Stark, I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have gone behind your back but I…”

“No, Peter, I’m sorry. I didn’t listen to you and you were right. You may have been a little unstable and erratic, but nevertheless, you were right. My suits didn’t search underwater and they didn’t detect them and you were the one who thought to look for him and if you didn’t go behind my back, he wouldn’t be with us now.”

“So you’re… you’re not mad?”

“No. I’m not. Frustrated in myself, but not in you. Also, repulsors? How did you pull that off?”

“It was easier than it looks,” Peter mumbled.

“Easy for you. It took Harley a week to perfect the repulsors. It took you, what? An hour?”

“Half an hour,” Peter said quietly.

“That’s impressive. It is. But for right now, we have to put on a happy face, and make Harley feel as welcome as possible now that he’s back, so put on your comms and talk to him like everything is okay, because the most we can do for him right now is make him feel safe while he’s in the air.” Before he got into his suit, he turned around. “Did you really take out all of those guards and workers by yourself?”

“I don’t really remember. It was all a blur,” Peter said. 

“Huh.” Tony got into the suit. “Hey, bud. How are you doing…”

Before Peter followed, he took a look at the room and shuddered. He couldn’t believe that this is where Harley had resided. That the rooms he had passed covered in fresh blood had been where he had… he didn’t want to imagine what he had gone through. 

He equipped his mask and turned on his comms, relaxing as he heard Harley softly asking if Crossover on Infinite Earths was worth the wait and if the Arrow finale was satisfactory. Harley.  _ HarleyHarleyHarley.  _ He was here again. He could hear him again. Harley was back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you go! That was the third book. This series is definitely taking a turn we didn't expect, but we have very big plans the upcoming installments. As always, we want to thank you all for reading and taking the time to commit to this series. We love each and every one of you, and we hope you stick around for the fourth installment (and hopefully more). Starry and I are planning to put out a behind the scenes podcast about the making of the series that will tease the fourth installment and give background to the thought process that went into "and they were roommates." So, keep an eye out for that. I will post a transcript along with the link to the podcast. Stay safe with everything going on right now, and remember to stay hydrated and wash your hands. We hope to be putting out content soon.
> 
> If you want to chat, our Tumblrs are [official-impravidus](official-impravidus.tumblr.com) and [StarryKitty013](starrykitty013.tumblr.com)
> 
> If you want to join a Parkner Discord, click [here!](https://discord.gg/vztSVpg)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!!
> 
> also here is some media(for Starry):  
> Tumblr:@starrykitty013  
> Twitter: @StarryKitty013  
> Insta:@starrykitty013  
> I post about Spidey stuff and also mini updates on this and other fics I'm working on!! (like how the next chapter is progressing or just things I'm generally excited for you to see or even sneak peaks and ART) I try to check it frequently. DM me anytime!
> 
> See y'all next time :3


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